Strange, high pitched singing has been heard in all quarters of New Babbage over the past few days, accompanied by the pounding of small feet….
“We’re not big an we’re not tall,
We are tough though mighty small!”
Was heard by passersby from on top of the Palisade Wall, early one morning. along with an exhortation to “GET THOSE FEET UP!”….
“Urchins have no house or home,
Streets are where we love to roam!”
Sounded through the open windows of the Gangplank as patrons supped their favorite tipples of a gentle summer evening….
“Gruel and oats are good for me.
Can run the streets and swim the sea!”
Drifted on the air of the Dockside, followed by a half heard conversation.
“What yer mean yer can’t swim?”
“Geezzz…. guess that’s next on the program then….”
“What? no, silly, yer won’t drown, look at yer, yer’ll float like a barrel!”
Up past the Dagon Hall, drowning out the drone of the gloomy worshipers, a chorus of young voices rang out….
“Tubby’s fat an awful dim,
We running him till he is slim!”
The reduction of Tubby had begun in ernest…