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.