A man's wife gives him a stick, and the poem sets out, flatly and a little comically, what it is supposed to do: ease pain and keep light from his eyes. It also costs £100. Yet the speaker admits at the end that he has no idea how to use it.
The humour comes from the gap between the expensive, confident-sounding purpose of the object and his blank confusion. The plain, list-like lines make him sound dry and slightly baffled rather than angry or ungrateful. There's a hint of tenderness too: the gift seems to be a well-meant attempt to help with pain, perhaps headaches, though the poem never says so outright. The speaker's puzzlement suggests a small distance between giving care and knowing how to receive it. The mood is wry, quiet and gently awkward, and the abrupt ending leaves us smiling at his helplessness.