and such another racket as they made I never heard before, and have never heard since.”
“Why, what kind of a song was it?” inquired Sweetest Susan. “I’m sure I never heard such a song.”
“Well,” replied Mr. Rabbit, “you are young and I am old, but you know just as much about that song as I do, and maybe more than I do, for you haven’t been pestered with it as long as I have. It is a worse riddle to me than it was the day I heard it.”
“What did they do then?” asked Buster John.
“Well,” Mr. Rabbit replied, “they sat there and sang just as I told you. Brother Buzzard would stop to catch his breath and then break out,—
“‘Oh, Susy, my Susy, gangloo!
Oh, Milly, my Molly, langloo!’
and then Brother Crow would squall out,—
“‘Oh, Susy, my Susy, gangloo!
Oh, Milly, my Molly, langloo!’
“They sang on until they began to get hungry, and as Brother Buzzard seemed to be the biggest and fattest of the two, everybody thought he would hold out the longest. But Brother Crow was plucky, and he sang right along in spite of the emptiness in his craw. He didn’t squall as loud as he did at first, but every time Brother Buzzard sang, Brother Crow would sing, too. By and by, they both began to get very weak.
“At last, as luck would have it, Brother Crow saw his wife flying over, and he sang out as loud as he could:—