There was a little puppy once,
With silken hair and bright black face,
Who, that he might not be a dunce,
Was sent to school to learn apace.

A pint of milk and crust of bread,
Was every day his usual food;
And for his rest a basket bed,
Was made up warm, and nice, and good.

He gambolled, frisked, and frolicked round,
So full of fun the livelong day,
That often did the room resound
With laughter at his tricks and play.

And when he had learned all he could,
To keep him safe from every harm,
They took him from all those he loved,
And now he's living on a farm.

Now large he's grown, and now he's seen,
With fringing tail and drooping ears;
With piercing eye and scent so keen,
"Hunter's" a dog above his peers.

And now for game the field he scours,
Following the huntsman with his gun;
But I know he thinks those school-day hours,
His greatest glee, his grandest fun.