Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1869-06-13
From the Turf, Field and Farm.l
TE BOB WHITE. l3la


BY N q. SHEPHERD
Halfway ripe fsthe wavy wheat, ID q
Abroad in the fields where It stand
Soft az a whisper, and strangely sweet,
| The breath Of the wind IS it wanders by
{" Bob WhiteY
! Hark whose is il, the voice hear?
! Calling aloud i'm the tall grain near,
| "a Bob Whitep
Hotter each daygrOws the warm June sun
Ashade more purple the sky's deep blue
And the bright June roses have just begun
To sprinkle their leaves with an asher
hue p.
- Bob White"
There it is, calling again and again,
Sweet and clear from the amber grain,
Bob WhiteP'
''what does the little bird say, : my SOM
The father asks of his fair haired boy,
Where over the porch the wild vines run
And the humming-bee murmurs his
song of joys Bob wbiter,
Sounding aloud as the voice draws nigh,
And the innocent lips of the child reply,
Z" Bob WhiteF'
One shrilI note and a whirr of wings,
Away in moment, flying low,
As over the loose wall lightly springs
The farmer lad with his rake and hoe;
81 Bob Whitep
Whistles the boy, while his big black eyes
Follow the flock wherever it flies
+" Bob Whitel"
A soft, sleek coat of darSish brown,
And speckled waisteoat of lighter
shade,
Passing to white where it reaches down.
With breeckes of chestnut trinity made;
@ % Bob Whitep'
This is he whom we hear repeat, .-.
All day long in the ripening wheat,
Bob Whitei7
Two half circles around the throat,
One pale streak on his lordship's crown,
And all over the back of his Quaker coat
Paler streaks of yeIlowish brown;
Bob WhiteP'
This is he who fattens and thriyes,
Down in the wheat where he calls to his
wives,
"Bob Whitep'
A famous Mormon is he, I'm told;
Full of love for the softer sex,
With heart like an eagles, quick and
bold,
And a spirit fiery and easy to vex;
q Bob White!'
Is it his own or another's name
That he keeps repeating always the same,
81 Bob Whitep'
A few dried leaves and some bits of hay
Under a tuft of sheltering grass;
Hid in a hollow out of the way,
Where only by chance foot may pass
9 Bob Whitei"
Thus he calls now the nest is made;
Thus will he call till the eggs are laid;
q Bob Whitei"
Yellowish white the brittl> she'll,
Speckled with brown like his own little
breast,
Watched, and tended, and guarded well,
A dozen or more in the homely nest,
. Bob Whitei'
Far less frequent and something dry,
The voice of our friend as the DAYS go by,
Bob Whiter'
A smart young fellow his son and heir,
Ready at once from his nest to roam;
Little Of trouble and little to care
Brings the boy to the mother at home,
" Bob Whitei''
Almost sileneed the once clear tone
Now that the season of love is flown
Bob Whitep'
There in the grass where the dew hangs
damp. ....a..
Ever wstchful of any harm,
Back to back in circular camp,
Ready 30 rise at the least alarm,
"Bob Whitei''
Sits from the time the twilight falls,
And through the night, while no shTill
throat calls,
I" Bob Whitel'
By-snd-by, when thssamnler is dead,
And the glowing hand of the autumn
weaVes
Gorgeous patterns of purple and red
With gold and brown in the orchards
leaves, ...... ...- .....
q Bob Whiter'
Down in the stubble piping low,
No longer shall call, as the bright DAYS go,
" Bob Whitei'