THE PORTER
I'd like to be a porter, and always on the run,
Calling out, "Stand aside!" and asking leave of none.
Shoving trucks on people's toes, and having splendid fun,
Slamming all the carriage doors and locking every one--
And, when they asked to be let in, I'd say, "It can't be done."
But I wouldn't be a porter if . . .
The luggage weighed a ton.
Would you?
GROWING UP
Little Tommy Tadpole began to weep and wail,
For little Tommy Tadpole had lost his little tail;
And his mother didn't know him as he wept upon a log,
For he wasn't Tommy Tadpole, but Mr. Thomas Frog.
THE UNSOCIABLE WALLABY
Willie spied a wallaby hopping through the fern--
Here a jump, here a thump, there a sudden turn.
Willie called the wallaby, begging him to stop,
But he went among the wattles with a
flip,
flap,
flop!
* * *
I wonder whether, all together, you and I and father
Could eat a bun that weighs a ton. I'd like to try it, rather.
I want to know why roosters crow at dawning of the day.
Is it because they cannot think of something else to say?
* * *
THE SONG OF THE SULKY STOCKMAN
Come, let us sing with a right good ring
(Sing hey for lifting lay, sing hey!)
Of any old, sunny old, silly old thing.
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