Pies

THE OFFICE OF THE WATCH, BROCKENBORINGS, Northfarthing in the Shire, on this the 21^st day of Afterlithe:

Strawberry tarts were cooling on the windowsill. In the sitting room, Rosafina sat at her writing table, clutching a quill. Quite a few crumbled pieces of parchment were scattered about the floor.

Master Vedoc,

She paused, frowned. The opening at least wasn't giving her trouble.

I was very impressed by your entry in the Pie Competition at the sixth anniversary of Green Dragon Friday

But maybe that was too formal? 

“I demand tat yer investigate who stole me pie!” Billy bellowed, obviously starving and who was rubbing his belly pleadingly.

The Bounder cries out, “I’m sorry, Billy but we bounders in Stock got to put all our attention to those evil big folk down south!”

Billy growls, “I’ll do it meself since yer bounders can’t do anyting right!” Then he stormed out of the Golden Perch Inn, not aware that all the other hobbits heard every word and that they were disgusted that a pie should go missing.

Oh Crumbs!
*Please note that the bridge must be performed with a pie in your mouth to be sung properly, preferably a cheese and onion one with a firm crust.  And if you prefer mushrooms to lamb kidneys in your pie, you may substitute the words out, of course.*

Who made the Pie?

Who ploughed up the field?
Who planted the seed?
Who scared off the crows?
Who dug up the weeds?
And when harvest came
Who cut down the corn
And ground it to flour
From dusk until dawn?

Who raised all the cattle
From calf until cow?
Who tended the pigs
From piglet to sow?
Who made them a shelter
From rain and from heat?
Who sold them at market
Their milk and the meat?