He had just discovered that he could sing it, which he proceeded to do to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" and the full capacity of his lungs.

Bill and Aleck surged up to look over his shoulder and join their efforts to his, and the half dozen horses held captive in that corral stampeded to a far corner and huddled there, shrinking at the uproar.
"_And kiss 'er snow-white ha-a-and, and kiss 'er snow-white ha-and_," howled the quartet inharmoniously, at least two of them off key; for Tex Martin had joined the concert and was performing with a bull bellow that could be heard across a section.

Then Bud began suddenly to improvise, and his voice rose valiantly that his words might carry their meaning to the ears of Johnny Jewel, who had stalked back across the corral and was striving now to catch the horse he had let go, while his one champion, little Curley, shooed the animal into a corner for him.
"_It would be grand to kiss her hand, her snow-white hand, if I had the sand!_" Bud chanted vain-gloriously.

"How's that, Skyrider?
Ain't that purty fair po'try ?" "It don't fit into the tune with a cuss," Tex criticized jealously.

"Pass over that po'try of Johnny's.