"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickle peppers;

And a peck of pickle peppers Peter Piper picked;

If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickle peppers

Where's the peck of pickle peppers Peter Piper

picked?"

P oor Peter toiled his life away,

That afterward the world might say

"Where is the peck of peppers he

Did gather so industriously?"

The peppers are embalmed in metre,—

But who, alas! inquires for Peter?

In sun or storm, by night and day,

Scant time for sleep, and none for play,

Still the poor fool did nothing reck,

If only he might pick his peck:

And what result from all hath sprung,

But just to bite somebody's tongue?

Or,—Lady Fortune playing fickle,—

Get some one in a precious pickle?