We hobbled to the doorway

And peeped through the keyhole.

We wanted to steal a glance at Henry's new invention

But the lights went out.

Our excitement so rudely cut short,

We ran into the kitchen

To see what Hazel was brewing for dinner

But the lights were still out.

"She could use chicken legs," I cried.

"She knows we hate'em, and she hates us."

"We won't let her," Mathilda giggled.  "Sneak in a frog

Since the lights have gone out!"

Frog in hand, we slipped through the laundry room

And behind Hazel as she held up a chicken piece.

"Aha!  I caught you!" she cried, reeling around

As the lights came on.