Once upon a time there lived in Dixie
an honest farmer, but he was so poor,
whose only daughter was lovely, tan,
who was courted by Yankee man.
But by chance, he was a farmer too,
who wished to be a man well to do!
They prospered with corn so tall
two years with money in the bank,
then bore triplets with festal cheer
told of pride to each willing ear.
But by chance, both died too,
now the triplets were well to do!
By their birthright sworn not to drink
nor till twenty one of ale to think,
then a knock with ale at the door,
soon empty bottles covered the floor.
Another knock by their appointee,
these empty bottles he must not see.
Quickly song stopped with the dame,
the one with whom the ale came.
An opportunity to hide the evidence-alas,
then their broken pledge would pass.
Beside the hearth a huge box stood,
half filled with lighter and split oak wood.
The bottles filled the box with its size,
the evidence from their appointees eyes,
and the triplets sat on the box lid,
where the empty ale bottles were hid.
The appointee came and then he went,
never aware of the boxes content.
Had the appointee returned once more,
when another knock they heard at the door,
No the Gnome answered with his stave,
where is the ale to the woman I gave?
The triplets crossed nine times, and cried,
wished they had not drunk the ale, but died. |
