Old Bob White

Old Bob White's a funny bird!— Funniest you ever heard!— Hear him whistle,—"Old—Bob—White!" You can hear him, clean from where He's 'way 'crosst the wheat-field there, Whistlin' like he didn't care— "Old-Bob-White!" Whistles alluz ist the same— So's we won't fergit his name!— Hear him say it?—"Old—Bob—White!" There! he's whizzed off down the lane— Gone back where his folks is stayin'— Hear him?—There he goes again,— "Old—Bob—White!" When boys ever tries to git Clos't to him—how quick he'll quit Whistlin' his "Old-Bob—White!" "Whoo-rhoo-rhoo!" he's up an' flew, Ist a-purt'-nigh skeerin' you Into fits!—'At's what he'll do.— "Old-Bob—White!" Wunst our Hired Man an' me, When we drove to Harmony, Saw one, whistlin' "Old—Bob—White!" An' we drove wite clos't, an' I Saw him an' he didn't fly,— Birds likes horses, an' that's why. "Old—Bob—White!" One time, Uncle Sidney says, Wunst he rob' a Bob White's nes' Of the eggs of "Old Bob White"; Nen he hatched 'em wiv a hen An' her little chicks, an' nen They ist all flewed off again! "Old—Bob—White!"