Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 6).djvu/401

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"WHY, mister, you're the ninth
to-day—
(And not the last, as I'll be bound)
To come along and ask the way
To Little-Pigley-in-the-Pound
   And alwavs with a canvas case
   Containing paints to paint the place.

"But I'm afeard the likes o' you
Must hit on summut else to paint;
For Little-Pigley ain't on view—
And that's what Little-Pigley ain't—
   And maybe you've a mind to know
   Why Little-Pigley ain't on show?

"You artist gents is well aware
As Little-Pigley wasn't what
You might say kep' in fine repair—
A rambleshackling kind of spot:
   The which is rightly what contents
   Sech curious folks as artist gents.

"Us Pigley folks had bin inclined
To fancy—ah! for thirty year—
That Little-Pigley wouldn't mind
A dab o' putty here and theer.
   Still, no one started to begin,
   Though 'alf the roofs was tumblin' in.

"Then Roots'es chimbley down he come
And buried Mother Turmut's sow.
And then we thought, as things looked rum,
We might begin a-puttying now,
   And held a meeting, prompt and plump,
   About the matter, round the pump.

"And then and theer that meeting found—
And arter, at the 'Cow and Cup'—
That Little-Pigley-in-the-Pound
Required a bit o' doing-up;
   The which (though being our intent)
   Was flummoxed by a artist gent.