The Jolly Miller

The Jolly Miller

The old wife she sent to the miller her daughter
To grind her grist quickly and so return back,
The miller so work'd it that in eight months after
Her belly was filled as well as her sack;

The miller so pleas'd her that when she come home,
She gap'd like a stuck pig and stared like a mome,
She hoydne'd, she scamper'd, she hollow'd and whoop'd,
And all the day long, this, this was her song,
Was ever a maiden so lericompoop'd.

Oh, Nellie, cry'd Celie, thy clothes are so mealy,
Both backside and belly are rumpled all o'er,
You mope now and slabber, why what a pox ails you?
I'll go to the miller and know you the more;
She went and the miller did grinding so ply,
She came cutting capers a foot and half high,
She waddled, she straddled, and
hollow'd and whopp'd,
And all the day long, this, this was her song,
Were ever a maiden so lericompoop'd.

Then Mary, mild Mary, the third of the number,

Would fain know the cause they do jigg'd it about,

The miller her wishes long would not incumber,

But in the old manner the secret found out.

Thus Celie and Nellie and Mary the mild,

Were all about harvest time heavy with child,

They danced in the hay and they hollow'd and whoop'd,

And all the day long, this, this was their song,

Were ever three sisters so lericompoop'd.

And when they were big they did stare at each other,
And crying, "Oh sisters, what shall we now do,
For all our young bantlings we have but one father,
And they in month time will all come to town, too:
Oh why did we run in such haste to the mill
To Robin who always the toll dish would fill;
He bump't up our bellies, then hollow'd and whoop'd"
And all the day long, this, this was their song,
Were ever three sisters so lericompoop'd.

mome — buffoon or clown