The Arkansas Traveller

Oh once upon a time in Arkansas An old man sat in his little cabin door, And fiddled at a tune that he liked to hear, A jolly old tune that he played by ear. It was raining hard but the fiddler didn't care He sawed away at the popular air, Though his roof tree leaked like a water fall That didn't seem to bother than man at all. A traveler was riding by that day, And stopped to hear him a-practicing away The cabin was afloat and his feet were wet, But still the old man didn't seem to fret. So the stranger said: "Now the way it seems to me, You'd better mend your roof," said he. But the old man said, as he played away: "I couldn't mend it now, it's a rainy day." The traveler replied: "That's all quite true, But this, I think, is the thing for you to do; Get busy on a day that is fair and bright, Then pitch the old roof till it's good and tight." But the old man kept on a-playing at his reel, And tapped the ground with his leathery heel: "Get along," said he, "for you give me a pain; My cabin never leaks when it doesn't rain."