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This talented Giraffe can play In such a skillful, pleasing way, That every one who hears agrees That he is Master of the Keys; So 'tis not strange at all that he Should hold his head high, as you see.

Here's a Horse that is no shirker, But a busy, willing worker, For at the steaming washing-tub All day, like this, 'twill stand and rub. A Horse so good at washing clothes, A clothes-horse might be called, I s'pose.

THE DOGGIES' PROMENADE.

Three dogs went out for a promenade All on a summer's day; There was Mr. Dog, and Mrs. Dog, And little Doggie Tray.

And as they walked down the crowded street, They were proud as proud could be, For they were dressed in their very best, As every one could see.

But a mischievous cat on the sidewalk stood, No coat, no hat had she; So she laughed at the dress and the pompousness Of the dog and his family.

Mr. Dog growled deep, and sprang at the cat, And chased her up and down, With an angry cry, and a flashing eye, Throughout the wondering town.

But he tripped in his haste against a stone, And fell in the slippery street, And when he arose, lo! his stylish clothes Were mud from head to feet.

And Mrs. Dog, when she saw his plight, With horror swooned away, And sank right down, with her silken gown, On a heap of soft red clay.

Wee Baby Dog was in sad distress; He sought for his cap in vain; His kilt was torn, he was all forlorn, And his tears fell down like rain.

But the roguish cat at her fireside sat, And thought of her fun that day; And she jumped and danced, and purred and pranced, At the doggies running away.

Two little pigs were in a pen; One little pig ran away and then Then there was only one! One little pig to stay at home One little pig that loved to roam-- Over the fields to run.


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