Pinafore Palace Part 20

III

THE PALACE PETS

_The Cow_[4]

The friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart: She gives me cream with all her might, To eat with apple-tart.

She wanders lowing here and there, And yet she cannot stray, All in the pleasant open air, The pleasant light of day;

And blown by all the winds that pa.s.s And wet with all the showers, She walks among the meadow gra.s.s And eats the meadow flowers.

Robert Louis Stevenson.

[Footnote 4: _From "Poems and Ballads," copyright, 1895, 1896, by Chas. Scribner's Sons._]

_The Good Moolly Cow_

Come! supper is ready; Come! boys and girls, now, For here is fresh milk From the good moolly cow.

Have done with your fife, And your row de dow dow, And taste this sweet milk From the good moolly cow.

Whoever is fretting Must clear up his brow, Or he'll have no milk From the good moolly cow.

And here is Miss p.u.s.s.y; She means by _mee-ow_, Give me, too, some milk From the good moolly cow.

When children are hungry, O, who can tell how They love the fresh milk From the good moolly cow!

So, when you meet moolly, Just say, with a bow, "Thank you for your milk, Mrs. Good Moolly Cow."

Eliza Lee Follen.

_The Cow_

"Pretty Moo-cow, will you tell Why you like the fields so well?

You never pluck the daisies white, Nor look up to the sky so bright; So tell me, Moo-cow, tell me true, Are you happy when you moo?"

"I do not pluck the daisies white; I care not for the sky so bright; But all day long I lie and eat Pleasant gra.s.s, so fresh and sweet,-- Gra.s.s that makes nice milk for you; So I am happy when I moo."

Mrs. Motherly.

_Bossy and the Daisy_

Right up into Bossy's eyes, Looked the Daisy, boldly, But, alas! to his surprise, Bossy ate him, coldly!

Listen! Daisies in the fields, Hide away from Bossy!

Daisies make the milk she yields, And her coat grow glossy.

So, each day, she tries to find Daisies nodding sweetly, And although it's most unkind, Bites their heads off, neatly!

Margaret Deland.

_The Clucking Hen_

"Will you take a walk with me, My little wife, to-day?

There's barley in the barley-field, And hay-seed in the hay."

"Thank you," said the clucking hen; "I've something else to do; I'm busy sitting on my eggs, I cannot walk with you."

"Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck,"

Said the clucking hen; "My little chicks will soon be hatched, I'll think about it then."

The clucking hen sat on her nest, She made it in the hay; And warm and snug beneath her breast, A dozen white eggs lay.

Crack, crack, went all the eggs, Out dropt the chickens small!

"Cluck," said the clucking hen, "Now I have you all."

"Come along, my little chicks, I'll take a walk with _you_."

"Hollo!" said the barn-door c.o.c.k, "c.o.c.k-a-doodle-do!"

Aunt Effie's Rhymes.

_Chickens in Trouble_

"O mother, mother! I'm so cold!"

One little chicken grumbled.

"And, mother!" cried a second chick, "Against a stone I've stumbled."

"And oh! I am so sleepy now,"

Another chick was moaning; While chicken fourth of tired wings, Kept up a constant groaning.

"And, mother! I have such a pain!"

Peeped out the chicken baby; "That yellow meal did taste so good, I've eaten too much, may be."

"And there's a black, black cloud up there,"

Cried all in fear and wonder; "O mother dear, do spread your wings And let us all creep under."

"There, there, my little dears, come here; Your cries are quite distressing,"

The mother called, and spread her wings For comfort and caressing.

And soon beneath her feathers warm, The little chicks were huddled; "I know what ailed you all," she said, "You wanted to be cuddled."