TIN SHACK LIVING, AND FISHING

I built a little, tin shack to live in, down by the river,

The dirt floor grows moss and mold, and the cold tin makes me shiver,

When the river freezes to ice,

I ice fish, using squeaky mice,

I shoot pike fish with my bow, using arrows from my quiver.

THE DEER HUNT AND THE BAT LIMERICK

I climbed up a tree to hunt deer with my bow,
A big buck I targeted and was good to go,
But, the tree where I sat,
Was the home of a bat,
I then panicked and shot off my big toe.  

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