I have only one foot, but thousands of toes; My one foot stands well, but never goes; I've a good many arms, if you count them all, But hundreds of fingers, large and small; From the ends of my fingers my beauty grows; I breathe with my hair, and I drink with my toes; I grow bigger and bigger about the waist Although I am always very tight laced; None e'er saw me eat--I've no mouth to bite! Yet I eat all day, and digest all night. In the summer, with song I shake and quiver, But in winter I fast and groan and shiver.