"I swan!" said farmer Joe one morn,— "Them pesky crows shan't have my corn!" So he went to work, and soon he found Two stakes, which he drove into the ground. Then he brought to light some ragged pants And a tattered coat soon found a chance; While an old felt hat was perched for show Upon the head of the old scare-crow.
One arm reached out while the other one Held to his breast a rusty gun. "There it is done, and now, " quoth he— "See which will beat—them crows or me!" So in the house the whole day he spent, Feeling at ease and well content,— While a broad grin o 'er his features strayed As he tho't of the trick on the crows he'd played.
Meanwhile, two crows sat on a tree— The young said to the old one: —"See That horrid thing that's standing yonder— What is he doing here I wonder? If he stays here what's to be done? For Mother, look, he 's got a gun! Here in this tree all day I've stayed— Oh, Mother! are yon not afraid?
What shall we do? it takes my breath— Must we stay here and starve to death— Do you s'pose that old thing will hurt me? I'm just as hungry as I can be! But to get my grub I don't know how— For see, he's looking at us now! And what on earth are we to do— Oh, Mother! I'm afraid, aren't you?"
"You foolish child," the old crow said, "Fret not your silly little head— That is our Corn King good and true, He came and stayed here last year, too.— He has come to us, armed with a gun; To tell us when the planting's done. He tells us that we need not fear, He'll protect us as long as he is here.
He tells us—as he did before: 'Fear not the farmer any more' Our honest Corn-King tells us right,— Come, let us go and have a bite! Let's pay our respects to the Corn-King true"— Then to the field of corn they flew. And the rest of the crows they did invite— Not a hill of corn was left in sight!
