THE REG'LAR LARK
The Reg'lar Lark's a very gay old Bird;At sunrise often may his voice be heardAs jauntily he wends his homeward way,And trills a fresh and merry roundelay.And some old, wise philosopher has said:Rise with a lark, and with a lark to bed.
Although a learned EntomologistMay doubt if Humbugs really do exist,Yet each of us, I'm sure, can truly sayWe've seen a number of them in our day.But are they real?—well, a mind judicialPerhaps would call them false and artificial.
THEPOPPYCOCK THE POPPYCOCK
The Poppycock's a fowl of English breed,And therefore many think him fine indeed.Credulous people's ears he would regale,And so he crows aloud and spreads his tale.But he is stuffed with vain and worthless words;Fine feathers do not always make fine birds.
The Haycock cannot crow; he has no brains,No,—not enough to go in when it rains.He is not gamy,—fighting's not his forte,A Haycock fight is just no sort of sport.Down in the meadow all day long he'll bide,(That is a little hay-hen by his side.)
THEPOWDERMONKEY THE POWDER MONKEY
A Theory, by scientists defended,Declares that we from monkeys are descended.This being thus, we therefore clearly seeThe Powder-Monkey heads some pedigree.Ah, yes,—from him descend by evolution,The Dames and Daughters of the Revolution.
THE TREE CALF
The sportive Tree Calf here we see,He builds his nest up in a tree;To this strange dwelling-place he cleavesBecause he is so fond of leaves.'Twas his ancestral cow, I trow,Jumped o'er the moon, so long ago.But he is not so great a rover,Though at the last he runs to cover.
THEMILITARYFROG THE MILITARY FROG
The Military Frog, as well you know,Is the famed one who would a-wooing go.And on the soldier's manly breast displayed,He wins the heart of every blushing maid.But, as a frog, I think he's incomplete,He has no good hind legs that we may eat.
THE FEATHER BOA
This animal of which I speakIs a most curious sort of freak.Though Serpent would its form describe,Yet it is of the feathered tribe.And 'tis the snake, I do believe,That tempted poor old Mother Eve,For never woman did existWho could its subtle charm resist.
THEBRICK BAT THE BRICK BAT
Oft through the stillness of the summer nightWe see the Brick Bat take his rapid flight.And, with unerring aim, descending straight,He meets a cat on the back garden gate.The little Brick Bat could not fly alone,—Oh, no; there is a power behind the thrown.
THE CAT O' NINE TAILS
The Cat O' Nine Tails is not very nice,—No good at all at catching rats and mice;She eats no fish, though living on the sea,And no one's friend or pet she seems to be.Yet oft she makes it lively for poor Jack,—Curls round his legs, and jumps upon his back.
THEROUNDROBIN THE ROUND ROBIN
Here's the Round Robin, round as any ball;You scarce can see his head or tail at all.He's not a carrier-pigeon, though he bringsImportant messages beneath his wings....