And so with the sun hanging low in the sky
and everyone tired, they yawned
and even the birds were refusing to fly
but returned to their nests and babes fond.

"My dear company," the Pickler said,
"I declare that this is the end,
but I think that indeed I really do dread
having to leave you, my friends."

"And what of adventure?" the Piglet exclaimed,
his little pink face flushed with pride,
"Yes, what of the unknown?" said Please, unafraid
and they looked everyone in the eye.

The rain passed over, and each one of the group
convereged at the top of the hill
with the pumpkin on top, smelling like soup
which was making them green at the gills

Each one looked around, and was thus introduced
to the new members and friends
even though they were wary of the dragon (but who
wouldn't be, if they had any sense?)

Percival Pink turned a bit red at the cheeks
when somebody mentioned his name,
and the Painter looked thoughtfully mind and meek
as he pondered his future of fame.

Across the vast plain the Politician stood
arm-in-arm with his Pipe-making friend,
and together they walked past the darkening wood,
on a path with many a bend.

"And I'll lower taxes," the Politican did say,
And the Pipe-maker said not a word
but on his pipe kept puffing so silently away
and the Politican looked injured.

"Why do you not speak?" he asked with a sigh
that coneveyed his true feelings at this,
but the Pipe-maker just looked at him with one solemn eye,
and held his good pipe in his fist.

Meanwhile, across the grassy green hills
the Pirate was walking alone
'cept for his net and his pistol, and small mountain rills
that would pinch him and make him groan.

He shooed them away just as the wind got worse
and snatched his black hat off his head,
and in his frustration he yelled his worst curse:
"Dumb onion-snout!" he said.

And then, looking up, he saw the dark clouds
gathering right over head,
and since there was no one for miles around
he let himself shiver with dread.

The Piglet and Please walked hand in hoof,
and the little blue shawl dragged the ground
as the two went Adventuring, when suddenly, 'Poof!'
the shawl had at last been unwound.

The Piglet, in tears, said it was just as he feared,
the one thing he so loved was now gone,
and Please felt sad for his new friend so dear,
and so he composed him a song.

But the Piglet still wept his little wet tears,
and Please didn't know what to do
so he picked up the string and told the Piglet, "No fear,
for I know how to knit, 'tis true."

They all gathered round as the Pickler cried,
"Come! Look upon these new lands!"
and then they all dashed like mad down the side
of the hill, wildly waving their hands.

The pumkin they left, to mark the last place
where they had left all of their things
except for the nets (the Politician made a face,
for he hated to chase bugs with wings.)

"Today we're here gathered," the Pickler said,
beginning his speech with an air
of deepest solemnity, and bowing his head,
he continued, "And on this day fair..."

But his words were cut short by a rumbling sound,
and the Pickler went red in the face,
and the thing that came up the hill would astound
every one in the whole human race!

A pumpkin so big, and round as the moon
and orange as the set of the sun
and behind it a man, who looked like he would soon
drop dead as if shot by a gun.

"At last we arrive!" the Pickler did cry
as he reached the top of the hill
and brushing a tear at the edge of his eye
he called for his men to be still

"At last we arrive! I'll say it once more,
for here is the place we have sought;
at last we arrive! I'm perfectly sure
that here's where the map has us brought."

The Pickler's job was once in a place
where he pickled his pickles all day
till a map fluttered down and flapped in his face,
and did take his poor breath all away.