So the duck took it carefully up in her bill,
And the duckling and hen followed on to the mill,
Where the miller's fat sheep was placidly grazing,
And there they displayed this treasure amazing.

"Ah, bah!" said the sheep, "what a queer-looking piece!
This never was parcel or part of a fleece!
Our flock would disown it!--but take it, I pray,
To Brindle, the cow, she's wise about hay!"

So the sheep and the duckling, the duck and the hen,
With the treasure set forth in procession again,
To where the cow stood,--in the shade, as she ought,--
A-chewing her cud and a-thinking her thought.

"Bless my horns!" said the cow, "I really must say,
I've ne'er seen the like in straw or in hay!
Why don't you ask Dobbin, the farmer's gray mare?
She's traveled so much, and she's wise about hair."

So the hen and the ducks, the sheep and the cow,
Went seeking for Dobbin, just loosed from the plow;
They all talked at once, to make things explicit,
And finally showed her the cause of their visit.

But Dobbin gave snorts of dislike and dismay;
"Why don't you," said she, "pass it on to old Tray?
He hunts for his food where the refuse is thrown,
And he's wise about cinders, and rubbish, and bone."