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The Tythe Pig 
The Tythe Pig 
All you that love a bit of fun, come listen here awhile I'll tell you of a droll affair, will cause you all to smile; The parson, dressed all in his best, cocked hat and bushy wig He went into a farmer's house to choose a sucking pig. 
"Good morning," said the parson, "good morning, sir, to you, I've come to choose a sucking pig, [you know it is my due. Therefore I pray go fetch me one that is both plump and fine, Since I have asked a friend or two along with me to dine." 
Then went the farmer to the sty, among the pigs so small He chose the very smallest pig, the smallest of them all; But when the parson saw the choice, how he did stamp and roar, He snorted loud, he shook his wig, he almost cursed and swore. 
"O then," replied th farmer, "since my offer you do refuse, I pray, sir, walk into the sty, there you may pick and choose." Then in the sty he ventured without any more ado; The old sow ran with open mouth and at the parson 
O then she caught him by the coat and took off both the skirts, Then ran between his legs and threw him in the dirt. The parson cursed the very hour he ventured for the pig, You'd laugh to see the young ones, how they shook his hat and wig. 
Then next she caught him by the breech while he so loud did cry, "O help me from this cursed sow or I shall surely die." The little pigs his waistcoat tore, his stockings and his shoes, The farmer cries, "You're welcome, sir, I hope you'll pick and choose. " 
At length he let the parson out all in a handsome trim, The sow and pigs so neatly in the dirt had roll-ed him His coat was to a spencer* turned, his brogues were ripped behind, Besides his backside was all bare, and his shirt hung out behind. 
He lost his stockings and his shoes which griev-ed him full sore, Besides his waistcoat, hat and wig were all to pieces tore Away the parson scampered home as fast as he could run, The farmer almost split his sides with laughing at the fun. 
The parson's wife stood at the door awaiting his return 
And when she saw his dirty plight she into the house did run. "My dear, what is the matter, and where have you been?" she said. "Get out you slut", the parson cried, "for I am almost dead." 
"Go fetch me down a suit of clothes, go fetch them down, I say, And bring me my old greasy wig without any more delay; And for the usage I've received all in the curs-ed sty, I ne'er shall relish sucking pig unto the day I die." 
spencer: short jacket (the pig had made his frock coat into a short jacket by tearing off the skirts). 
From English Country Songbook, Palmer
 Compulsory tithing--a practice that lasted formally from the late tenth century until 1836--was not a particularly popular practice among those being tithed. THis song dates to the 1830's. RG