Clematus was a backwoods boy
He was back woodsy as they get.
I watched his youthful eyes grow wide
When first he saw a TV set.

He was running through the hotel
Where each new wonder brought him glee.
Then he brought a cup of water
And, happily, handed it to me.

I drank it to make him happy
Although its taste was far from fair.
He asked if he could bring some more
For all the others standing there.

But he came back with empty hands,
And what he said made me go pale,
“I can’t get any more water,
A man is sitting on the well!”