Three Brothers

Three Brothers - Joyce Grenfell

I had three brothers

Harold and Robert and James

All of them tall and handsome

All of them good at games

And I was allowed to field for them

To bowl to them to score

I was allowed to slave for them

For ever and evermore

Oh I was allowed to fetch and carry

For my three brothers

Jim and Bob and Harry

All of my brothers

Harry and Jim and Bob

Grew to be good and clever

Each of them at his job

And I was allowed to wait on them

To be their slave complete

I was allowed to work for them

And life for me was sweet

For I was allowed to fetch and carry

For my three brothers

Jim and Bob and Harry

Jim went out to South Africa

Bob went out to Ceylon

Harry went out to New Zealand

And settled in Wellington

And the grass grew high on the cricket pitch

And the tennis court went to hay

And the place was too big and too silent

After they went away

So I turned it into a guest house

After our parents died

And I wrote to the boys every Sunday

And once a year they replied

All of them married eventually

I wrote to their wives of course

Their wives wrote back on postcards

Well it might to been very much worse

And now I have nine nieces

Most of them home at school

I have them all to stay here

For the holidays as a rule

And I am allowed to week a them

To do odd jobs galore

I am allowed to slave for them

And life is sweet once more

For I am allowed to fetch and carry

For the children of Jim and Bob and Harry