Music and Poetry

Last night, the family was making loud noises with tin whistles while I was cleaning up after dinner. Faelan came over and whispered that he had just tried to play "millet for the mumble, mumble, rags and bones mumble, mumble." Later, further inquiry revealed that he had been making up a tune for a scrap of poem that  he remembered thus: "Millet for the poor, rags and bones for the wicked wolves without the walls at night," which he said came from the song of Shiv and the Grasshopper, from the Jungle Book.

I looked it up this morning, and here are the 9th through 12th lines:


Wheat he gave to rich folk, millet to the poor,
Broken scraps for holy men that beg from door to door;
Cattle to the tiger, carrion to the kite,
And rags and bones to wicked wolves without the wall at night.

What a lovely scrap to have inside his head!