My pa 's an awful busy handy man about th' house;
He 's got a chest o' tools that he won't never let me touch;
An' when ma tells him something 's broke, pa jumps right up and says,
" I 'll git to work and fix it now — it won't amount to much. "
An' when he takes his plane an' saw, an' puts on his old clothes
An' rolls his shirt sleeves 'way, far up — I tell you, my pa knows
The way a thing should be repaired, an' he will plan and plan —
I 'm proud as I can be that pa is such a handy man!

Last week he fixed a table that had lost its right hind leg;
He took it to the kitchen, an' he sawed an' hammered till
He jarred the plaster off the wall — at least cook said he did —
An' let me stay to watch him, pervid-ed I kept still.
It was n't very pretty when he got it done, I know,
But pa, he ain't responsible, when furnishure acts so —
So when it would n't stand alone, ma says, " I guess I can
Make use of it for kindling wood! " Ain't pa a handy man?

But yistiddy he fixed two chairs, a window an' a door,
An' broke his saw an' bust his thumb, an' my, but he was mad!
An' then he went to fix the lock, but said he guessed he 'd stop,
Cause ma would not encourage him — an' then he looked real sad.
When he had gone, ma shook her head, an' says, " John, run an' get
The carpenter down street, an' we will have things fixed right yet, "
An' when pa came back home at night, 't was done! Then he began
To ask ma if she was n't glad he was a handy man?