Fytte II. The Tig. 



Now Johnny Dull had once a pig, — 

 'T was far from fat, its bones were big. 

 To scratch his hide with all his might 

 Was this poor piggie's sole delight. 



Once on a time it so fell out 

 He in the garden roamed about: 

 He chanced to have an itching mood; 

 The bee house quite convenient stood 



