So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a little cart passed by and said, “Why art thou sweeping, little broom?”

“Have I not reason to sweep?

“The little louse has burnt herself,

The little flea is weeping,

The little door is creaking.”

“The little louse has burnt herself, The little flea is weeping, The little door is creaking.”

So the little cart said, “Then I will run,” and began to run wildly.