Then said the ash-heap by which it ran, “Why art thou running so, little cart?”

“Have I not reason to run?

“The little louse has burnt herself,

The little flea is weeping,

The little door is creaking,

The little broom is sweeping.”

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