Now this old man did come and go, Through the wood that grew in the dell below; It was scant a mile from his own door-stone, Darksome and dense, and overgrown; And down in the drearest nook of the wood, A tall and splintered fir-tree stood; Half-way up, where the boughs outspread, A carrion crow his nest had made, Of sticks and reeds in the dark fir-tree, Where lay his mate and his nestlings three; And whenever he saw the man come by, “Dead horse! dead horse!” he was sure to cry, “Croak, croak!” if he went or came, The cry of the crow was just the same, Jack looked up as grim as could be, And says, “what’s my trade to the like of thee!” “Dead horse! dead horse! croak, croak! croak, croak!” As plain as words to his ear it spoke. Old Jack stooped down and picked up a stone, A stout, thick stick, and dry cow’s bone, And one and the other all three did throw, So angry was he, at the carrion crow; But none of the three reached him or his nest, Where his three young crows lay warm at rest; And “Croak, croak! dead horse! croak, croak!” In his solemn way again he spoke; Old Jack was angry as he could be, And says he, “On the morrow, I’ll fell thy tree,-- I’ll teach thee, old fellow, to rail at me!” As soon as t’was light, if there you had been, Old Jack at his work you might have seen; I would you’d been there to see old Jack, And to hear the strokes as they came “thwack! thwack!” And then you’d have seen how the croaking bird Flew round as the axe’s stroke he heard, Flew round as he saw the shaking blow, That came to his nest from the root below, One after the other, stroke upon stroke; “Thwack! thwack!” said the axe, said the crow, “Croak! croak!” Old Jack looked up with a leer in his eye, And “I’ll hew it down!” says he, “by and bye! I’ll teach thee to rail, my old fellow, at me!” So he spit on his hands, and says, “have at the tree!” “Thwack!” says the axe, as the bark it clove; “Thwack!” as into the wood it drove; “Croak!” says the crow in a great dismay, “Croak!” as he slowly flew away. Flap, flap went his wings over hedge and ditch, Till he came to a field of burning twitch; The boy with a lighted lantern there, As he stood on the furrow brown and bare, He saw the old crow hop hither and thither, Then fly with a burning sod somewhither.