and the Ethiopian hadn't done it once--do you? But they will
never do it again, Best Beloved. They are quite contented as
they are.


I AM the Most Wise Baviaan, saying in most wise tones,
'Let us melt into the landscape--just us two by our lones.'
People have come--in a carriage--calling. But Mummy is there....
Yes, I can go if you take me--Nurse says she don't care.
Let's go up to the pig-sties and sit on the farmyard rails!
Let's say things to the bunnies, and watch 'em skitter their tails!
Let's--oh, anything, daddy, so long as it's you and me,
And going truly exploring, and not being in till tea!
Here's your boots (I've brought 'em), and here's your cap and stick,
And here's your pipe and tobacco. Oh, come along out of it --quick.




THE ELEPHANT'S CHILD

IN the High and Far-Off Times the Elephant, O Best Beloved, had
no trunk. He had only a blackish, bulgy nose, as big as a boot,
that he could wriggle about from side to side; but he couldn't
pick up things with it. But there was one Elephant--a new
Elephant--an Elephant's Child--who was full of 'satiable
curtiosity, and that means he asked ever so many questions. And
he lived in Africa, and he filled all Africa with his 'satiable
curtiosities. He asked his tall aunt, the Ostrich, why her
tail-feathers grew just so, and his tall aunt the Ostrich spanked