  The Puppy cannot mew or talk, He has a funny kind of walk, His tail is difficult to wag And that’s what makes him walk zigzag. He is the Kitten of a Dog, From morn till night he’s all agog— Forever seeking something new That’s good but isn’t meant to chew. He romps about the Tulip bed, And chews the Flowers white and red, And when the Gardener comes to see He’s sure to blame mamma or me. To please him is to chase his tail— (To catch one’s tail, ’twixt me and you, Is not an easy thing to do.) If he has not a pretty face The Puppy’s heart is in its place. I’m sorry he must grow into A Horrid, Noisy Dog, aren’t you? A black and white puppy A kitten looks round from a window, while the moon shines outside |
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