So he took off his cap, and standing before the company he sang as follows:
A bumble-bee lit on a hollyhock flower
That was wet with the rain of a morning shower.
While the honey he sipped
His left foot slipped,
And he could n't fly again for half an hour!
"Good!" cried the alderman, after the company had kindly applauded
Tommy. "I can't say much for the air, nor yet for the words; but it
was not so bad as it might have been. Give us another verse."
So Tommy pondered a moment, and then sang again:
"A spider threw its web so high
It caught on a moon in a cloudy sky.
The moon whirled round,
And down to the ground
Fell the web, and captured a big blue fly!"
"Why, that is fine!" roared the fat alderman. "You improve as you go
on, so give us another verse."
"I don't know any more," said Tommy, "and I am very hungry."
"One more verse," persisted the man, "and then you shall have the
bread and butter upon the condition."
So Tommy sang the following verse:
"A big frog lived in a slimy bog,
And caught a cold in an awful fog.
The cold got worse,
The frog got hoarse,
Till croaking he scared a polliwog!"
"You are quite a poet," declared the alderman; "and now you shall have
the white bread upon one condition."
"What is it?" said Tommy, anxiously.
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