The Owl and the Crow

There was an old owl, With eyes big and bright, Who sung in a treetop One calm summer night. And the song that he sung I will now sing to you— "To whit! To whoo, hoo! To whit! To whoo, hoo!"

He sand there all night Till early next morn, When a crow came along That was looking for corn. The crow heard him singing, "To whit! To whoo, hoo!" And offered to sing A few notes that he knew.

Just then the old owl In the treetop so high, With his classical shape And his big staring eye, Rquested the crow, In the deepest of scorn, To sing his old chestnut About stealing corn.

"Caw! Caw!" said the crow, "Well—my deeds are by light. I don't steal young chickens And sit up all night, With dew on my feathers; When I break the laws In looking through cornfields It's not without caws"