With a hop, skip, and jump, We went to the pump, To fill our kettles with starch. He gave us good day In the pleasantest way, With a smile that was winning and arch. "Oh, Pump," said I, "When you look up on high To flirt with the morning star, Does it make you sad, Oh! Pumpy, my lad, To think she's away so far?" Said the Pump, "Oh no! For we've settled it so That but little my feelings are tried. For every clear night She slides down the moonlight, And shines in the trough at my side." |