"When de preacher took his tex'
He look so berry much perplex'
Fur nothin' come acrost his mine
But Dandy Jim from Caroline!"
Bobby shut his eyes tight, and threw his head back and sang through his nose, as he had seen big folks do. He put the whole of his little soul into these impressive words. When he had finished and opened his eyes to discover what effect his vocal exertions had produced, his audience was of course fast asleep.
"Well, I never!" said Bob.
"The tune's too awful lively," said the little old woman, when she woke up. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Now, hear me sing." And she began, in a slow, solemn movement, the most drawling tune you ever heard, and they all joined in the same fashion:
"Poor old Pidy,
She died last Friday:
Poor old creetur,