One morning

    Tom, Tom, the piper’s son,
    Was hungry when the day begun;
    He wanted a bun and asked for one,
    But soon found out that there were none.

“What shall we do?” he asked his father

“Go hungry,” replied Barney, “unless you want to take my pipes and play in the village.  Perhaps they will give you a penny.”

“No,” answered Tom, shaking his head; “no one will give me a penny for playing; but Farmer Bowser might give me a penny to stop playing, if I went to his house.  He did last week, you know.”

“You ’d better try it,” said his father; “it ’s mighty uncomfortable to be hungry.”

So Tom took his father’s pipes and walked over the hill to Farmer Bowser’s house; for you must know that

    Tom, Tom, the piper’s son,
    Learned to play when he was young;
    But the only tune that he could play
    Was “Over the hills and far away.”

And he played this one tune as badly as his father himself played, so that the people were annoyed when they heard him, and often begged him to stop.

When he came to Farmer Bowser’s house, Tom started up the pipes and began to play with all his might.  The farmer was in his woodshed, sawing wood, so he did not hear the pipes; and the farmer’s wife was deaf, and could not hear them.  But a little pig that had strayed around in front of the house heard the noise, and ran away in great fear to the pigsty.

Then, as Tom saw the playing did no good, he thought he would sing also, and therefore he began bawling, at the top of his voice,

    “Over the hills, not a great ways off,
    The woodchuck died with the whooping-cough!”

The farmer had stopped sawing to rest, just then; and when he heard the singing he rushed out of the shed, and chased Tom away with a big stick of wood.  The boy went back to his father, and said, sorrowfully, for he was more hungry than before,

“The farmer gave me nothing but a scolding; but there was a very nice pig running around the yard.”

“How big was it?” asked Barney.

“Oh, just about big enough to make a nice dinner for you and me.”

    The piper slowly shook his head;
    “’T is long since I on pig have fed,
    And though I feel it ’s wrong to steal,
    Roast pig is very nice,” he said.

Tom knew very well what he meant by that, so he laid down the pipes, and went back to the farmer’s house.

When he came near he heard the farmer again sawing wood in the woodshed, and so he went softly up to the pig-sty and reached over and grabbed the little pig by the ears.  The pig squealed, of course, but the farmer was making so much noise himself that he did not hear it, and in a minute Tom had the pig tucked under his arm and was running back home with it.

The piper was very glad to see the pig, and said to Tom,

“You are a good son, and the pig is very nice and fat.  We shall have a dinner fit for a king.”