SHOE AND FIDDLE.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!
My dame has lost her shoe;
My master's lost his fiddlestick,
And does n't know what to do."
Who's crowing, I wonder, to spread such
a scandal
Of the blithe-tripping dame who hath
dropped off her sandal,
And seemeth all sad and forlornly to
shirk,
Where she used, in good hmnor, to dance
at her work?
PPerhaps honest chanticleer simply may
glory
In faithfully giving both sides of the story;
And scorning the loss of the lady to tell
Without owning the miss of the master as
well.
For how, when the fiddlestick 's gone, can
be played
The music, without which the dancing is
stayed?
When the man 's out of tune, the dear
woman, 't is plain,
Must wait till he graciously strikes up again.
Let him hunt for his bow, then, and rosin it
too,
(If really he'd like to be told what to do;)
And I think, with the fiddling, 't will surely
be found
All else will come right for the merry-go-
round!