The widow was young and the widow was fair,
With the brightest of eyes and the brownest of hair;
And it frequently chanced, when she came in the morn
With the swill for her pig, Larrie came with the corn.
And some of the ears that he tossed from his hand,
In the pen of the widow were certain to land.
One morning said he:
“Och! Misthress McGee,
It’s a waste, of good lumber, this runnin’ two rigs,
Wid a fancy petition betwane our two pigs!”