Henry Blake’S Chum

Henry Blake’s chum he had awful red hair, And most of his clothes were too small; And often and often he wore his feet bare Until it was late in the fall. But he would just whistle as though he had shoes, Was never discouraged or glum; And most any boy would be sorry to lose A fellow like Henry Blake’s chum.

Henry Blake’s chum, he knew all about trees, And woodticks and crickets and birds, And all of the things that a boy really sees But can’t always tell them in words; And he knew where fish were the most apt to bite, And when the first blackberries come, And how to catch birds in a trap when they light-- No wonder he’s good for a chum.

Henry Blake’s chum, he had rabbits for pets, And crows that he taught how to speak, And dogs that will haul you, and he often gets A new dog or two every week. And often he crawls up and catches a frog Between his first finger and thumb, Where it may be sitting alone on a log; And my! Henry’s proud of his chum!

Henry Blake’s chum, he knew all about flowers And always could tell you their name, And didn’t mind thunder or lightning or showers Because he said it’s all the same So long as you’re barefoot and haven’t much clothes. And he knew how partridges drum, And whistled just like a Bob White’s whistle goes-- No wonder he’s somebody’s chum.

Henry Blake’s chum, he came up from the farm, And my! he was awful ashamed In school not to know the big bone in your arm Or what the equator was named. But when it came recess we all stood about And waited until he would come, And he told us things we had never found out-- And my! Henry’s proud of his chum!