"I went back to the house," said he, "and went in and tried to sit down in the rocking-chair, and there was an old woman knitting there, and she—oh my!—stuck her knitting-needles into me."
(That was the cat, you know.)
"Then I went to the table to look after the money, but there was a shoemaker under the table, and my! how he stuck his awl into me."
(That was the dog, you know.)
"So I started to go upstairs, but there was a man up there threshing, and goody! how he knocked me down with his flail!"
(That was the goat, you know.)
"Then I started to go down to the cellar, but—oh dear me!—there was a man down there chopping wood, and he knocked me up and he knocked me down just terrible with his axe."
(That was the bull, you know.)
"But I shouldn't have minded all that if it hadn't been for an awful little fellow on the top of the house by the kitchen chimney, who kept a-hollering and hollering, 'Cook him in a stew! Cook him in a stew! Cook him in a stew!'"
(And that, of course, was the cock-a-doodle-doo.)