Old Father McNether
Old Father McNether
He sorts out the weather
And takes what he pleases, I’m told,
With a big turkey-feather
He mixes the weather,
And makes it blow hot and blow cold.
Jerry Was a Joker
Jerry was a joker.
He carried off the poker
And dressed it up from head to heel
In clover-tops and orange-peel
And fed it bones and barley meal.
Poor old Rusty Poker!