ladies wear.

Merry guinea pigs one day
Went out in the fields to play.
Daisy smiled and wished that they
Would never, never go away.

Here is a Sister Piggy and a Brother Piggy, too,
The story they are telling here would not apply to you,
For selfish little sisters who make their brothers cry
Do not belong in houses but with piggies in the sty.

Now here's a little lady who seems a wee bit shy,
Or is it that a teardrop is trembling in her eye?
Well, I am sure that you or I would make an awful fuss
If we should have to have her name—"Miss Hippopotamus."

In animal land, as everywhere, there lives a Mr. Boar
Who never is contented unless he holds the floor;
His fellows all may frown at him but he cannot refrain
From pushing into everything—he's so selfish and so vain.

Mother and father and little Miss Bear
Went out for a walk and a bit of fresh air,
Not through the dark woods (the old tale to repeat)
But in their best clothes, right down the front street.

When little Miss Polar Bear goes out to skate,
She never is bothered by having to wait
Until mother wraps her all snugly in fur,
For those are the clothes that she carries with her!

Just look about and see if you
Can find a friend who's quite as true
As this old Doggie that you see
A-smiling here at you and me.

I'm just a little Puppy and good as good can be,
And why they call me naughty, I'm sure I cannot see,
I've only carried off one shoe and torn the baby's hat
And chased the ducks and spilled the milk—there's nothing bad in that!

The mandrill looks so very queer
I'm glad he lives way off from here;
He's purple, blue, red, black and brown,
I'm sure he is the jungle clown.

The baby gorilla, of the family called Ape,
Is very like you in size and in shape,
But he lives in the jungle with black hair for clothes
And he gets very naughty the older he grows.

This cute little brother and sister you see
Seated cosily high on the limb of a tree
Are the Marmoset twins, whose appealing round eyes
Look from flower-like faces in wond'ring surprise.

"I've climbed up here to smile at you and, oh, what do you think?
I've scattered master's papers and upset all of his ink,
But then if little Monkeys always were so very good
They'd not be little monkeys who just can't act as they should."

He is so very lazy that he is even loath
To walk upon his own feet—this funny boy named Sloth.
He swings upon the branches from morning until night,
And eats the leaves about him with laziest delight.

He works on tunnels night and day,
This Marmot boy from far away.
When winter comes then in he creeps,
And there until the spring he sleeps.

The woodchuck resides in a hole in the ground,
He is surly and cross, and he never is found
Out in the bright sunlight unless it's to see
If he can't make more winter for you and for me.

This naughty boy just eats and eats until he is a sight,
He eats until he cannot hold another tiny bite.
Of course, he's just an animal—they call him Wolverine—
But does he make you think of boys that you have ever seen?

Old Mr. Walrus climbs out of the deep
For a breath of air and an hour of sleep.
You will note that he isn't much on looks
But his skin we make into pocket-books.

He sits on the top of a gay wooden stand,
He stands on his head or he shakes your hand,
He dances a jig or he trumps a chant—
This jolly old circus Elephant.