THE PLAYTIME OF BACHELOR BILL

OUR Uncle Bill’s a bachelur, an’ it’s an awful shame, ’Cuz he knows stories about bears an’ knows ’em all by name. An’ growls ’ist like a really one an’ makes you think a bear Is underneath th’ table, but of course it isn’t there. An’ when he takes you on his knee he talks ’ist like a book An’ after w’ile your eyes get big an’ you’re a-scairt to look W’en he says: “Nen a bear come out an’ ’ist went Boo-oo-oo!” Becuz you almost think a bear is really after you. An’ ’en he plays wild Indian an’ hides himself somewheres W’ile we look in th’ corners an’ behind th’ parlor chairs, An’ peek in th’ dark closets an’ p’tend we’re on a scout Till after w’ile he makes a whoop an’ ’en comes rushin’ out ’Ist like he’s on th’ warpath; an’ us chinnern run upstairs An’ hide in Mamma’s closet an’ he makes us think ’at bears Are comin’ in to get us an’ he growls ’ist like he’s one, An’ my! we’re turble scairt an’ yet it’s awful lots o’ fun. An’ ’en he is a pirate an’ he makes us chinnern play At we are in a shipwreck an’ th’ crew is cast away Upon a desert island w’ere his treasure chest is hid, An’ we are only sailors an’ his name is Captain Kidd. An’ w’en we hear him comin’ he ’ist roars an’ ’en we run, ’Cuz he has broomsticks for a sword an’ pokers for a gun, An’ after w’ile he kills us all but it don’t hurt, an’ w’en He sails away in his big ship we come to life again. ’En after w’ile our Mother comes an’ taps him on th’ head, An’ says it’s time for bears an’ scouts an’ things to be in bed, An’ leads us chinnern all upstairs an’ maybe if we keep Right still she’ll let th’ candle burn until we go to sleep. ’En after w’ile our Uncle Bill comes up to say good-night, An’ see how snug an’ warm we are an’ all tucked in so tight, An’ ’en he kisses us good-night an’ ’en his eyes ’ist blur: I guess we make him sorry ’at he is a bachelur!