There was an old man who lived in the wood
As you will plainly see;
He thought he could do more work in a day
Than his wife could do in three.
“With all my heart,” the old dame said,
“If you will me allow:
You shall stay at home today
And I will hold the plough.”
“And mind you milk the tiny cow
Lest she should go dry,
And mind you feed the little pigs
That are within the sty.”
“And mind you watch the speckled hen
Lest she should stray away,
And don't forget the spool of yarn
That I spin every day.”
The old wife took her stick in her hand
And went to hold the plough;
The old man took the pail in his hand
And he went to milk the cow.
But Tiny she flinched and Tiny she squinched,
And Tiny she cocked up her nose.
And Tiny she gave him a kick in the shin
Till the blood ran down his toes.
And then he went to feed the pigs
That were within the sty
He knocked his head against the shed
And it made the blood to fly.
And then he watched the speckled hen
Lest she should stray away,
But he quite forgot the spool of yarn,
That his wife spun every day.
And when his wife came home that night
He said he could plainly see
She could do more work in a day
Than he could do in three.
