And the onion rings a bell.

And the onion rings a bell.

Annabelle Lee

married a flea

They both lived happily together.

Annabelle was a witch

Had a seven-year itch

and sold unlucky heather.

The flea was here,

the flea was there;

he often sat on a wicker chair

One day,

a knight and his squire

rode on into the town.

The knight was young,

the squire old;

they had tarnished armour,

be they never so bold.

Annabelle Lee

abandoned her flea,

and ran off with Sir Cuthbert

(for that was the knight’s name)

the squire thus left,

he felt bereft,

and then a tickling in his right ear.

The flea said, “Squire?

Are you for hire?

I need a lift to the town.”

The squire replied,

“I’ll give you a ride,

to fetch yon bride,

that with Sir Cuthbert has recently flown,

where is his pride?”

The flea and the squire

set off at once,

through the winds, the rain, the snow,

as fast as their eight legs would go;

they travelled up hill,

and travelled down dale,

their task, it did seem,

was likely to fail;

as they’d set off in completely the wrong direction.

but, after a little course correction,

they did reach the town,

where the squire fell down

in a tiredness from all of his travels;

but the flea was fresh,

the flea was fit,

the flea did seek where Annabelle

and Sir Cuthbert did Sit,

and he challenged the knight to a duel;

the noble knight laughed

to see such a one

and said, “You’re a fool,

if you think you’re a match for a knight!”

the flea Felt ire at his laughter,

determined to win at all costs;

sharpened his sword,

and without warning word

did fling himself at the knight’s chest;

the knight parried once,

then parried he twice,

the flea was much stronger than thought;

the battle was fought,

the flea did win;

and Sir Cuthbert the knight,

he had to give in,

and return Annabelle to her home,

never more would Annabelle roam.

And the onion rings another bell.