He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing he heard her.
"It would be grand to kiss 'er hand, Her-rr snow-white hand if I had the sand," Bud finished unctuously, adjusting the tune to fit the words.
Johnny swore, flung open the low door of the bunk house, went in, and slammed it shut after him, and began to pack his personal belongings.
Presently Tex came in, warbling like a lovesick crow: "I'll cir-cle high 's if pass-in' by, Then vol-lup bank-an' la-a-and--" "So will this la-and," Johnny said viciously and threw one of his new riding boots straight at the warbler.

"For gosh sake, lay off that stuff!" Tex caught the boot dexterously without interrupting his song, except that he forgot the words and sang ta-da-da-da to the end of the verse.
"Po'try was wrote to be read," he replied sententiously when he had finished.

"And tunes was made to be sung.

And yo' all oughta be proud to death at the way yo' all made a hit with yore po'try.

It beats what Mary V wrote, Skyrider.