Freddie was a fox hound. He was, it's true. His silver tags proved it, his collar a bright, bright blue.
Freddie watched Ms. Fiddle feed all her little chicks. Then he watched her throw the corn to the other chickens in the mix.
Chickens, chickens! Chickens gone galore!
All around the hen house, through the hen house door!
Chickens here, chickens there, chickens, chickens, everywhere!
Chickens running all around, little bobbing heads picking corn up off the ground.
Freddie sat and watched, so content was he, for this was entertainment each day he came to see.
Freddie's little freckles made light and dark brown spots. His tummy completely covered, his nose wore little dots.
He loved to follow Ms. Fiddle as she walked across the yard. He'd zigged and zagged behind her, his raised nose was keeping guard.
So when Ms. Fiddle scanned the barn yard, Freddie watched her, listening real hard. He knew what she might see. He knew what she might hear. He knew exactly what it was that Ms. Fiddle always feared....
A Fox! A Fox! All sly and sneaky, closing in to take a peaky at sleeping chicks, snug and sound. But to a FOX, a sneaky FOX,....it was dinner he had found.
So Ms. Fiddle searched the ground, as she did, she heard a sound. A Fox was close, a Fox was near, a Fox on the prowl just as she feared!
"Freddie! A Fox! Get him boy!"
Those were the words that brought a fox hound joy!
Freddie took off running...he was fast, Fast, FAST!
Chasing down a Fox was a blast, Blast, BLAST!
Ms. Fiddle knew her Freddie, and just like in the past, he would get that Fox, tackle him, then wrestle him in the grass.
He'd put a look of fear into that fox, that sneaky little pest! Every fox in Johnson county knew Freddie was the best!
Then back home he'd race once more, to sit upon the kitchen floor, and wait for sweet Ms. Fiddle to give him scraps to nibble.
Then back outside to the chicken coop, to lay upon his lookout stoop, ensuring the chicks were safe and sound.
All because of Freddie. Freddie the Freckled Fox Hound!
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