by Elphinstone Thorpe Down the steps, down the steps, Down the steps blundered Right down the area steps, Policeman Six Hundred "Come down; don't be afraid, Missus is out," cook said. Right down the area steps Strode Six Hundred. "There now, try that," she said, Was he all dismayed? No! though the bobby knew Someone was plundered. His not to make reply "I can't eat rabbit-pie," His but to have a try, Down at the table sat, policeman 600. Rabbit to right of him, Cold beef to left of him, Pork pie in front of him, (all of it plundered.) What is there left to tell Beef, pork and rabbit fell Into the jaws of... into the mouth of... well... Policeman 600. Flashed his good weapon bare, Flashed as it turned in air, Sabr'ing the pork-pie there, Slicing the cold beef, While cook stood and wondered. Never a word he spoke, Right thro' the crust he broke, Pie-crust and rabbit reeled from his master stroke, Shattered and sundered. Then he sat up again, Sat up, and pondered. Pocket to right of him Pocket to left of him Pocket behind him All were nigh sundered. Stuffed like a shrapnel shell Why? Well they heard the bell, Then he who fed so well Crept off with bated breath Carrying, sad to tell, All that was left of it, Left by six hundred. When can the memory fade Of the grand meal he made, While the cook wondered? Honour the kitchen jade! Honour the meal he made! Noble Six Hundred.
The end