May 28th, 2009, 12:53 PM
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| Super Member | | Join Date: May 2006 Location: Lexington, MA (USA)
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Hello, masters! Quote: | I am not the pheasant plucker. | Another dangerous rhyme involves the fig pluckers . . .
These are not tongue-twisters, but I love the last lines.
Mary had a little lamb,
His feet were black as soot.
And everywhere that Mary went
His sooty foot he put.
A comely young lady named Hyde
Ate too many apples and died.
. . The apples fermented
. . Within the lamented,
And made cider inside her inside.
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