I’ve met this beast in drawing-rooms
‘Mong ladies gay with silks and plumes.
He looks quite bored, and silly, too,
When he’s held up to public view.
I think I like him better when
Alone I brave him in his den.
I never seek the surly Bear,
But if I meet him in his lair I say,
“Good day, sir; sir, good day,”
And then make haste to get away.
It is no pleasure, I declare,
To meet the cross, ill-natured Bear.
I know it would be of no use
To say I’d never met a Goose.
There are so many all around,
With idle look and clacking sound.
And sometimes it has come to pass
I’ve seen one in my looking-glass.
This merry one, with laughing eyes,
Not too sedate nor overwise,
Is best of comrades; frank and free,
A clever hand at making tea;
A fearless nature, full of pluck,
I like her well—she is a Duck.
The Cat’s a nasty little beast;
She’s seen at many a fête and feast.
She’s spiteful, sly and double-faced,
Exceeding prim, exceeding chaste.
And while a soft, sleek smile she wears,
Her neighbor’s reputation tears.
Of all the animals I’ve met
The Puppy is the worst one yet.
Clumsy and crude, he hasn’t brains
Enough to come in when it rains.
But with insufferable conceit
He thinks that he is just too sweet.
Kids are the funniest things I know;
Nothing they do but eat and grow.
They’re frolicsome, and it is said
They eat tin cans and are not dead.
I’m not astonished at that feat,
For all things else I’ve seen them eat.