There was an old woman went up in a basket,
Ninety-nine times as high as the moon;
What she did there I could not but ask it,
For in her hand she carried a broom.
"Old woman, old woman, old woman," quoth I,
"O whither, O whither, O whither so high?"
"To sweep the cobwebs off the sky -
And I shall be back again by and by!"
A contribution to Illustration Friday - Swept.