There was an old woman tossed in a basket.
Seventeen times as high as the moon;
But where she was going no mortal could tell,
For under her arm she carried a broom.
»Old woman, old woman, old woman,« said I,
»Whither, oh whither, oh whither so high?«
"To sweep the cobwebs from the sky;
And I'll be with you by-and-by