There was an old owl,
  With eyes big and bright,
Who sung in a treetop
  One calm summer night.
And the song that he sung
  I will now sing to you--
  "To whit! To whoo, hoo!
  To whit! To whoo, hoo!"

He sand there all night
  Till early next morn,
When a crow came along
  That was looking for corn.
The crow heard him singing,
  "To whit! To whoo, hoo!"
And offered to sing
  A few notes that he knew.

Just then the old owl
  In the treetop so high,
With his classical shape
  And his big staring eye,
Rquested the crow,
  In the deepest of scorn,
To sing his old chestnut
  About stealing corn.

"Caw! Caw!" said the crow,
  "Well--my deeds are by light.
I don't steal young chickens
  And sit up all night,
With dew on my feathers;
  When I break the laws
In looking through cornfields
  It's not without caws"