by James Whitcomb Riley
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--
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,--
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.--
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.
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!