Cheshire Cheese Cat

Cheshire Cheese Cat — page 3
Off now you thieving moggy the fishmonger shrilled As if reading his thoughts she kicked the fish under her stall and cocked the broom for another swing Angry women with brooms unnerved him The only encounter Skilley dreaded more was one with Pinch the terror of Fleet Street With a flick of his peculiar tail Skilley turned his back to the fishwife putting all the disdain he could muster into the sway of his hips But once he had rounded the corner he flitted into an alley where he ran its length with darts and dashes Pausing at the end of the passageway he surveyed the familiar cobblestones and his spirits lightened Huddled over her fire on a near corner was the crone who sold roasted chestnuts for a ha-penny A few paces from her a boy hawked mulled cider Down the street the song of the rag and bone man mingled with the rattle of carriages and the hum of pedestrians Ah Fleet Street Skilley thought Home to some of the finest eating and drinking in London the street was a perfect gathering place for scavengers And down a certain modest court stood a most particular pub famed as a haunt for London writers Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese Skilley peered through the gauzy mist The inn’s hanging 2