GROWN UPS1. TIMMY TAYLOR AND THE RATS
1. TIMMY TAYLOR AND THE RATS
Itwas a spell of sultry weather,There’d been no rain for weeks together,And little Timmy Taylor,A mouse of a man,Walked down the roadWith a big milk-can,Walked softly down the road at nightWhen the stars were thick and the moon was bright.Hard by the road a spring came upTo glimmer in a rare bright cupOf green-sward, burnt elsewhere quite dry.To this he came—we won’t ask why—Little Timmy Taylor,The mouse of a man,With a big milk-can.Then, as he turned, so goes the story—Came trooping through the moonlight gloryHundreds and scores of—what do you think?Rats! rats a-coming down to drinkFrom granary and barn and stack,Grey and tawny, brown and black,Tails cocked up and teeth all gleaming,Beady eyes light-filled, and seemingThat moony-mad and hunger-fierce.Little Timmy Taylor,The mouse of a man,Dropped the milk-can,And giving a shriek—’twas fit to pierceThe ear o’ the dead—he ran away,And the can was found in the road next day.
Itwas a spell of sultry weather,There’d been no rain for weeks together,And little Timmy Taylor,A mouse of a man,Walked down the roadWith a big milk-can,Walked softly down the road at nightWhen the stars were thick and the moon was bright.Hard by the road a spring came upTo glimmer in a rare bright cupOf green-sward, burnt elsewhere quite dry.To this he came—we won’t ask why—Little Timmy Taylor,The mouse of a man,With a big milk-can.Then, as he turned, so goes the story—Came trooping through the moonlight gloryHundreds and scores of—what do you think?Rats! rats a-coming down to drinkFrom granary and barn and stack,Grey and tawny, brown and black,Tails cocked up and teeth all gleaming,Beady eyes light-filled, and seemingThat moony-mad and hunger-fierce.Little Timmy Taylor,The mouse of a man,Dropped the milk-can,And giving a shriek—’twas fit to pierceThe ear o’ the dead—he ran away,And the can was found in the road next day.
Itwas a spell of sultry weather,There’d been no rain for weeks together,And little Timmy Taylor,A mouse of a man,Walked down the roadWith a big milk-can,Walked softly down the road at nightWhen the stars were thick and the moon was bright.
Itwas a spell of sultry weather,
There’d been no rain for weeks together,
And little Timmy Taylor,
A mouse of a man,
Walked down the road
With a big milk-can,
Walked softly down the road at night
When the stars were thick and the moon was bright.
Hard by the road a spring came upTo glimmer in a rare bright cupOf green-sward, burnt elsewhere quite dry.To this he came—we won’t ask why—Little Timmy Taylor,The mouse of a man,With a big milk-can.
Hard by the road a spring came up
To glimmer in a rare bright cup
Of green-sward, burnt elsewhere quite dry.
To this he came—we won’t ask why—
Little Timmy Taylor,
The mouse of a man,
With a big milk-can.
Then, as he turned, so goes the story—Came trooping through the moonlight gloryHundreds and scores of—what do you think?Rats! rats a-coming down to drinkFrom granary and barn and stack,Grey and tawny, brown and black,Tails cocked up and teeth all gleaming,Beady eyes light-filled, and seemingThat moony-mad and hunger-fierce.Little Timmy Taylor,The mouse of a man,Dropped the milk-can,And giving a shriek—’twas fit to pierceThe ear o’ the dead—he ran away,And the can was found in the road next day.
Then, as he turned, so goes the story—
Came trooping through the moonlight glory
Hundreds and scores of—what do you think?
Rats! rats a-coming down to drink
From granary and barn and stack,
Grey and tawny, brown and black,
Tails cocked up and teeth all gleaming,
Beady eyes light-filled, and seeming
That moony-mad and hunger-fierce.
Little Timmy Taylor,
The mouse of a man,
Dropped the milk-can,
And giving a shriek—’twas fit to pierce
The ear o’ the dead—he ran away,
And the can was found in the road next day.