Show A BOLD BAD BOY I am sitting by the river Eloise Where the waters dance and quiver In the breeze And the little birds are winging Overhead and sweetly singing Till their melody is rinsing Through the trees Here together we sat chumming Eloise While we listened to the humming Of the bees And you said when I made money As the little bees made honey I would be your solid sonny Oh you tease As we sat beneath the willows Eloise Bosoms heaving as the billows Of the seas Oh how fond the recollection That by prudent circumspection I was winning your affection By degrees All at once a scream went flying Through the trees Seemed to shatter een the sighing Of the breeze And the voice which erstwhile charmed me Now with pitying ring alarmed me Till the very blood that warmed me Seemed to freeze What a chill of fear came oer me Eloise As you threw yourself before me On your knees And you said a bug that harm meant Was between your back and garment And you begged the dreadful varmint I would seize But my modesty was riven Eloise And my blushes ran up sevenTy seven-Ty degrees And you called me craven coward Epithets upon me showered And alone left me embowered Neath the trees So again I here am sitting Eloise And the same old birds are flitting Through the trees In the same old way theyre winging And the same old songs theyre singing And the same old musics ringing On the breeze But Ive grown a whole lot older If you please And Ive certainly grown bolder By degrees And if I now had occasion I would stop that bugs invasion Without any hesitation I Eloise Denver Post |