Here are the strangest pair of dogs,

What sort I cannot tell,

But judging by their noses sharp

They have the sense of smell.

Their tails are very, very long,—

But does it really matter?

By the very way they stare and start

They're mad as any hatter.

Are these Quumps or Zagabogs,

Golliwogs or Quees?

Anyhow, you'd best look out,—

They're just about to sneeze!

I've just discovered a marvelous way

Of making these Blottentots mottled and gray;

If you promise you never will show any one

I'll tell you the secret of how it is done.

Take two bottles of ink, one thick and one thin,

Of different blacks, and dip your pen in;

From each splash a drop at the very same spot,

Then do as before, only pressing a lot.

What makes these little Grigs so sad?

They're standing most dejected.

Have they been up to something bad

And in it got detected?

Lanky Doodle came to town

Without his little pony,

Stuck a feather in his hat

With bits of macaroni.

Jingle your bells and your tambourine

For just such a dance as you never have seen;

Such swishing of skirts, and glancing of feet,

Such bowing and parting, then running to meet;

So jingle your bells and your tambourine,

And keep them a-dancing from morning till e'en.

He's flying in the air,

So you are safe and sound;

But you had better skip

When he lights upon the ground.