The Troll and Tom
From The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien
Troll sat alone on
his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
For many a year he had gnawed it near,
For meat was hard to come by.
Done by!
Gum by!
In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
And meat was hard to come by.
Up came Tom with his big boots on.
Said he to the Troll: Pray, what is yon?
For it looks like the shin o my nuncle Tim,
As should be a-lyin in graveyard.
Gaveyard!
Paveyard!
This many a year has Tim been gone,
And I thought he were lyin in graveyard.
My lad, said Troll, this bone I stole.
But what be bones that lie in a hole?
Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o lead,
Afore I found his shinbone.
Tinbone!
Thinbone!
He can spare a share for a poor old troll,
For he dont need his shinbone.
Said Tom: I dont see why the likes o thee
Without axin leave should go makin free
With the shank or the shin o my fathers kin;
So hand the old bone over!
Rover!
Trover!
Though dead he be, it belongs to he;
So hand the old bone over!
For a couple o pins, says Troll, and grins,
Ill eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins.
A bit o fresh meat will go down sweet!
Ill try my teeth on thee now.
Hee now!
See now!
Im tired o gnawing old bones and skins;
Ive a mind to dine on thee now.
But just as he thought his dinner caught,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind
And gave him the boot to larn him.
Warn him!
Darn him!
A bump o the boot on the seat, Tom thought,
Would be the best way to larn him.
But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the mountains root,
For the seat of at troll dont feel it.
Peel it!
Heal it!
Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan,
And he knew his toes could feel it.
Toms leg is game, since home he came,
And his bootless foot is lasting lame;
But Troll dont care, and hes still there
With the bone he boned from its owner
Doner!
Boner!
Trolls old seat is still the same,
And the bone he boned from its owner!