The Sale Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Hans Dralle owned a little pig
Though it was cute, it was not big.
The pig spent all his day just scratching
one morning when the boys were thatching
he rubbed against some hives his skin
they did contain mad bees within.

With supersonic, silent speed
the bees appeared just as he peed.
They stung him here, they stung him there
the piglet thought it was unfair
but as he stood and let them sting
the farmer came and said 'I'll bring
this pig inside the barn
to weigh this jolly piece of charm
while we were working he expanded
just what the meat market demanded.'

'What is the going price for this? '
'Five hundred notes is what it is.'
The buyer went with happy thought
and liked the porker he'd just bought.