I knew an old farmer and I knew him well,
He had a daughter and her name,was Nell.
Nell was so pretty and only sixteen,
When I showed her the works of my threshing machine.

We went to a barn and we went us inside,
There in the corner, some straw we espied.
Nell worked the throttle and I worked the steam,
As I showed her the works of my threshing machine.

Six months has gone past and all is not well,
For something has happened to our little Nell.
And under her apron can clearly be seen,
The dirty old works of my threshing machine.

Nine months has gone past and all is now well,
A baby is born to our little Nell.
And under his nappy can clearly be seen,
A brand new, two cylinder, threshing machine.