I was an Inkstand new,
Papa he likes to use it;
He keeps it in his pocket now,
For fear that he should lose it.
J was some Apple Jam,
Of which Papa ate part;
But all the rest he took away
And stuffed into a tart.
K was a great new Kite;
Papa he saw it fly
Above a thousand chimney pots,
And all about the sky.
