He scratched at his head. Oh dear, how to proceed?
Where were all his friends in this time of great need?
Wee Balou had vanished, had left him alone
‘’Which door is the one?’’ he called out, with a groan.
The door on the left looked fresh-painted and bright
The door on the right had once surely been white
But now was quite grubby, and blistered and grey
The door in the middle near rotted away.
He looked at the left with a shake of his head
This door looked quite sturdy, which filled him with dread
The right could be right and the middle quite wrong
But the left was the best if they built these things strong.
There was nought else for it. It must be the one.
He gathered his courage and sang a short song
The Molemullion anthem would help him to be
A braver Molemullion. He took the first key…