Said a cow, “It has long been my dream,
A sort of utopian scheme,
To leave, when I die,
Enough milk to supply
A home for poor kittens — with cream.”

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXV, December 1912, no. 2, p. 321.]

There once was a plausible fox
Who explained that he dabbled in “stocks,”
But they found out one day
“Live stock” was his “lay,”
When he “cornered” ten prize Plymouth Rocks.

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXV, November 1912, no. 1, p. 159.]

Once a grasshopper (food being scant)
Begged an ant some assistance to grant;
But the ant shook his head,
“I can’t help you,” he said,
“It’s an uncle you need, not an ant.”

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, September 1912, no. 5, p. 802.]

There once was a cryptical crane,
Who wore an expression of pain
And refused to be fed
Because some one said
He resembled one Hamlet, a Dane.

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, September 1912, no. 5, p. 801.]

“I have often been told,” said the horse,
“Of man’s intellectual force,
A thing, if correct,
I should never suspect
From the people I meet at the course.”

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, August 1912, no. 4, p. 640.]

An eel who had studied Delsarte,
The alphabet thus could impart
To a small school of fish,
Who said ‘t was their wish
To learn without using a chart.

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, July 1912, no. 3, p. 480.]

“Good gracious!” cried Miss Cockatoo,
“Whatever on earth shall I do?
Bright colors to-day
Have gone out, and they say
High head-dresses now are taboo.”

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, July 1912, no. 3, p. 479.]

There was a cantankerous ‘gator
For whom ‘t was no pleasure to cater.
If he happened to find
No dish to his mind,
He would like as not swallow the waiter.

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, June 1912, no. 2, p. 321.]

Said a lachrimose Labrador seal,
When asked why she wept with such zeal,
“My tears are not lost,
In this antarctic frost:
To magnificent pearls they congeal.”

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIV, May 1912, no. 1, p. 160.]

Said the condor, in tones of despair;
“Not even the atmosphere’s rare.
Since man took to flying,
It’s really too trying,
The people one meets in the air.”

[Oliver Herford in The Century Magazine. Vol. LXXXIII, April 1912, no. 6, p. 959.]