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On the way to the British Museum

Not far from the British Museum there stands
An apple stall, painted bright green,
Whence a penny may buy from the stall-keeper’s hands
Three apples, all rosy and clean.

Now the girls of St. George’s great Charity School
Very often are passing that way,
For their governors wise make this very good rule—
They must go for a walk every day.

How wistful the glances they cast as they pass,
How they long for an apple to eat;
But their pockets are quite without pennies, alas!
To purchase so dainty a treat.

These maidens have cheeks that are rosy and sweet
As the choicest of fruit on the stall,
And the very next time that we meet in this street,
I’ll buy apples enough for them all.

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