Classic Poem

My dad an' I we're splendid churns,
We'll stick thro' every ill that comes
Together like two sugar-plums,
My dad an' I.

We go afishin' in the spring,
An' tho' we oft get nary thing,
We're each as happy as a king,
My dad an' I.

We go agunnin', too, for game,
An' tho' we don't attain to fame,
We like it first rate just the same,
My dad an' I.

I find, when I the past review,
He's given me lickin's very few:
We know each other through an' through,
My dad an' I.

Besides the cane he's given me pills
An' other things to cure my ills,
An' all along he's paid the bills;
I thank him for 't.

Thus through the past, until this time,
When I do pen this little rhyme,
We have worked out a fair regime,
My dad an' I.

Into the future none may look,
Fast is it shut, like a brass-bound book;
But we'll pull through by hook or crook,