Willie. Perhaps it’s crow pie, Si, who knows?
Simon. I knows it’s good as good can be, And that is quite enough fer me.
Jill. Give us a bite, Si?
Simon. No, sirree! This pie ain’t quite enough fer me. Go hunt fer one, like I did, Jill, On a gombobble tree.
Jill (contemptuously). I guess I will! Here comes Jacky Horner, now, And he looks real mad.
Willie. There’ll be a row.
Jack Horner. Well, of all the cheek! Say, Simple Si, Where in the world did you find my pie?
Simon. This be n’t your pie. It b’longs to me. It growed on a gombobble tree.
Jack Horner. A gombobble tree! There’s no such thing! And pies don’t grow on trees.
Simon. This here pie did. So, Master Jack, It’s not yours, if you please.