Father Grumble
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There was an old man that lived in a wood, as you can plainly see
Who said he could do more work in a
day than his wife could do in three
"If that be so," the old woman said, "Why this you must allow
That you shall do my work for a day while I go drive the plow"
"But you must milk the Tiny cow, for fear she should go dry
And you must feed the little pigs that are within the sty
And you must watch the speckled hen or she will run away
And you must wind the reel of yarn that I spun yesterday"
The old woman took the staff in her hand and went to drive the plow
The old man took the pail in his hand and went to milk the cow
But Tiny hinched and Tiny flinched and Tiny wrinked her nose
And Tiny gave the man such a kick that the blood ran down his toes
'Twas, "Hey my good cow,
" and "Ho my good cow," and "Now my good cow stand still"
If I ever milk this cow again, 'twill be against my will"
He went to feed the little pigs that stand in yonder sty
He bumped his head against the post and how the blood did fly
And then he watched the speckled hen for fear she'd run away
But he forgot the reel of yarn his wife spun yesterday
He swore by all the leaves on the tree and all the stars in heaven
That his wife could do more work in a day than he could do in seven