Fox and The Goose
The little baby foxes, eight, nine, and ten / And the old mama fox did tell their dad,
"You'd better make a trip to the goose's pen so we don't starve to death-o."
Well, the daddy fox dug out of his den. / He sniffled his nose in the midnight wind.
He prayed for the moon to hide him when he made for the farmers pen-o.
He followed the wind for a half a mile. / He hid in the dump and the garbage pile.
He heard the dogs barkin' on his trail when he came to the goose's house-o.
"I'll swim the lake, I'll swim the pond / I'll swim the river both up and down.
I could not drag a fat goose down amongst these dogs and hounds-o."
He circled the field, he circled the trees. / He laid false trails thru the stickery weeds.
He left the dogs on the old foot log and he swum for the farmer's goose pen,
He left the hounds and the dogs on the log and he swum for the farmer's goose pen.
The granddaddy goose by the candlelight / Told all the other geese about his fights.
"I pecked and I flogged, I bit and I poked, and I run that fox away-o."
The fox dug under the goosey's wall. / "I'm glad to my soul to meet you all.
My family want you to pay us a call or at least your juiciest goose-o."
"I'm skin and bones," the auntie goose ran. / "I'm dry bones too," uncle goose flew.
"We're hard and tough," said mama and pop, and the goslings sat and cried-o.
Well, the three juiciest goslings he grabbed up in his hand. / Back under the wall he ran.
The lake and pond and river he swam while the three begged for their life-o,
The lake and pond and river he swam while the goslings begged for their life-o.
Up did sound the hunters' horns. / Up did run the dogs and hounds.
And there on the trail they wagged their tails, as they ate up the fox and the goslings-o.