Vhen Billy Milked de Bull

(author: George Essex Evans)

‘Twas in the dark before the dawn vhen all the ghosts were out

The cows were calling quite forlorn for Billy to come out.

‘Twas raining too, a steady pour, upon the roof o’oer haed.

So Billy gave another snore and turned again in bed.

The fumes of homemade German wine still lingered in his brain,

And whilst he dreamed of Wilhelmina, the cows they lowed in vain.

He might have still been sleeping so, and dreaming of amours,

Had not his anxious father’s tow upheaved him out of doors!

Pail in each hand and staggering forth with mingled grunts and vows,

Poor Billy went in muttered wrath to milk these flamin’ cows.

The yard was dark, the wind … a gale … ‘twas likewise sopping wet,

So Billy shooed into the bail, the first cow he could get.

It was a cow of monstrous size, it’s sides were soft as silk,

And it expressed no great surprise … till Billy began to milk!

The uproar roused the neighbourhood for miles and miles and miles,

They rushed to see all that they could with Shmiles and shmiles and shmiles.

And men who gazed on battle scenes declared this took the bell.

The shed was smashed to smithereens, and Bill had gone to …

We’ve planted flowers on his grave, and all our hearts are full,

As we relate the doings brave, when Billy milked the bull!