A poem by James Whitcomb Riley about a toad who tries to sing to make it rain…
"'S cur'ous-like," said the tree-toad,
"I've twittered fer rain all day;
And I got up soon,
And hollered tel noon-
But the sun, hit blazed away,
Tell I jest clumb down in a crawfish-hole,
Weary at hart, and sick at soul!
"Dozed away fer an hour,
And I tackled the thing agin:
And I sung, and sung,
Tel I knowed my lung
Was jest about give in;
And THEN, thinks I, ef hit don't rain NOW,
They's nothin' in singin', anyhow!
"Onc't in a while some farmer
Would come a-drivin' past;
And he'd hear my cry,
And stop and sigh-
Tel I jest laid back, at last,
And I hollered rain tel I thought my th'oat
Would bust wide open at ever' note!
"But I FETCHED her! -O I FETCHED her!-
'Cause a little while ago,
As I kindo' set,
With one eye shet,
And a-singin' soft and low,
A voice drapped down on my fevered brain,
A-sayin', -'EF YOU'LL JEST HUSH I'LL RAIN!'"
Recorded by "Samanem".