Gaffer

As she was going through the wood, she met Gaffer Wolf, who had a very great mind to eat her up; but he dared not, because of some fagot-makers hard by in the forest. He asked her whither she was going. The poor child, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and hear a wolf talk, said to him:— "I am going to see my grandmother, and carry her a custard and a little pot of butter from my mamma.

Tom is the gaffer here.

The apprentice carries a gather of glass on the blowpipe to the gaffer's bench […]

If thou return not, Gammer o'er her pail Will sing in sorrow, 'neath the brinded cow, And Gaffer sigh over his nut-brown ale […]

And you're here to tell me what's what. Just like your bloody gaffer promised.