Once there was a country bumpkin
Who observed a great big pumpkin
To a slender stem attached;
While upon an oak tree nourished,
Little acorns grew and flourished.
“Bah!” said he. “That’s badly matched.”
“If, despite my humble station,
I’d a hand in this Creation,
Pumpkins on the oaks would be;
And the acorn, light and little,
On this pumpkin stem so brittle
Would be placed by clever Me.”
Then, fatigued with so much thought, he
Rest beneath the oak tree sought. He
Soon in slumber found repose
But, alas! An acorn, falling
On the spot where he lay sprawling,
Hit him–plump!–Upon the nose.
Up he jumped–a wiser bumpkin.
“Gosh!” he said. “Suppose a pumpkin
Came a-fallin’ on my face!
After all, if I had made things,
I’ll allow that I’m afraid things
Might be some what out of place.”
