When I’m as rich as Uncle Claus,
With whiskers on my chin,
I’m going to have a great big house
To put my people in.
I’ll never let them wander out
Or ride with me to town;
They’ll come a-running when I shout
And tremble when I frown.
I’ll have some men in soldier tents,
A pirate and his mate,
And wildcats all around the fence,
And mad dogs on the gate.
Leroy F. Jackson