My story tells of Bridget WhittingWho loved both plain and fancy knitting,But though she worked by day and nightHer efforts seldom turned out right.Friends would say, "Cor! That jumper's posh!"But when she'd given it a wash,Instead of snugly fitting BridgetIt seemed more suited to a midget.One day, when off to see her draperShe saw announced inside her paperA brand-new wool; was she elated!For bold as brass the maker stated:-"This wool's the best that can be got,It will not shrink, no matter what!"So Bridget told her woolshop flat,"I'll have a basinful of that."And hurried home with glowing cheeks,But couponless for weeks and weeks.Soon willing Labour bore its fruit -A salmon-pinky jumpersuit,Which Bridget wore with pride o'er-weeningTill, solied and creased, it needed cleaning.Said B., "It won't take half a wink,the makers say it cannot shrink."(But they forgot to say - the wretches! -That wool made shrinkless sometimes stretches).'Twas washed; the outcome nearly killed her,It went three times round Aunt Matilda!And looked in shade like Aunt EuphemiaWho suffers from acute anaemia."That's finished it," wept B., "I'm quitting,I'm through for good and all with knitting;I'll write at once to my MP,about this dire clamity."Her tale was penned 'midst groans and hisses,- The MP showed it to his Mrs.Who said, "That girl should be advisedto stick to wool that's Patonised,Which, used with reasonable careWill wash and wash, and wear and wear;Trust P&B, the leading spinnersOnly to turn out certain winners.Just tell her she's a chump to quitWhen there's such lovely wool to knit."B. took the tip, no longer weeps;that MP's in his seat for keeps!
I hope you enjoyed Bridget's tale.