THE CROW THAT THE CROW CROWED.
Reading edition
By S. Conant Foster.
"Ho! ho!" Said the crow: "So I'm not s'posed to know Where the rye and the wheat And the corn kernels grow— Oh! no, Ho! ho! "He! he! Farmer Lee, When I fly from my tree, Just you see where the tops Of the corn-ears will be Watch me! He! he!" Switch-swirch, With a lurch, Flopped the bird from his perch As he spread out his wings And set forth on his search— His search— Switch-swirch. Click!-bang!— How it rang, How the small bullet sang As it sped through the air— And the crow, with a pang, Went spang— Chi-bang. The Tail Feathers. Now know, That to crow Often brings one to woe; Which the lines up above Have been put there to show, And so, Don't crow.