The Tiger

The tiger, on the other hand,
Is kittenish and mild,
And makes a pretty playfellow
For any little child.
And mothers of large families
(Who claim to common sense)
Will find a tiger well repays
The trouble and expense.

Hilaire Belloc

Hilaire Belloc was an Anglo-French writer and historian, known for his poetry, essays, and children's books. Born on July 27, 1870, in France, he became a British citizen and was a prominent figure in early 20th-century British literature. Belloc was a devout Catholic, which significantly influenced his writings. He was a close friend of G.K. Chesterton and shared similar views on social and political issues. Belloc passed away on July 16, 1953, leaving behind a rich legacy of literary works.

Hilaire Belloc

Rebecca

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

The Microbe

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

The Big Baboon

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

Hildebrand

Hilaire Belloc, Simple Poetry

English

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The Lion

The Lion, the Lion, he dwells in the Waste,
He has a big head and a very small waist;
But his shoulders are stark, and his jaws they are grim,
And a good little child will not play with him.

Hilaire Belloc

Introduction: The Bad Child's Book Of Beasts

I call you bad, my little child,
Upon the title page,
Because a manner rude and wild
Is common at your age.

The Moral of this priceless work
(If rightly understood)
Will make you, from a little Turk
Unnaturally good.

Do not as evil children do,
Who on the slightest grounds
Will imitate the Kangaroo,
With wild unmeaning bounds:

Do not as children badly bred,
Who eat like little Hogs,
And when they have to go to bed
Will whine like Puppy Dogs:

Who take their manners from the Ape,
Their habits from the Bear,
Indulge the loud unseemly jape,
And never brush their hair.

But so control your actions that
Your friends may all repeat.
This child is dainty as the Cat,
And as the Owl discreet.

Hilaire Belloc

Tiger And Elephant.

        On Ganges banks roams the tiger,
        And lion rules by the Niger,
        Hunter heard shrill cry of peacocks,
        In Indian jungles go in flocks.

        And he saw tiger crouch and spring,
        To crush a bird with beauteous wing,
        But the tiger missed his aim,
        And he hung his head with shame.

        Then there came a mighty crush,
        Of elephants rush through the bush,
        The tiger cat-like crouched on ground,
        And elephants rushed in with bound.

        In front was baby elephant,
        To crush its bones did tiger want,
        But mother saw fierce forest ranger,
        And she gave a cry of danger.

        Leader of herd he madly rushed,
        Resolved the tiger should...

James McIntyre

Good and Bad Kittens

Kittens, you are very little,
    And your kitten bones are brittle,
If you'd grow to Cats respected,
    See your play be not neglected.

Smite the Sudden Spool, and spring
    Upon the Swift Elusive String,
Thus you learn to catch the wary
    Mister Mouse or Miss Canary.

That is how in Foreign Places
    Fluffy Cubs with Kitten faces,
Where the mango waves sedately,
    Grow to Lions large and stately.

But the Kittencats who snatch
    Rudely for their food, or scratch,
Grow to Tomcats gaunt and gory,--
    Theirs is quite another story.

Cats like these are put away
    By the dread S. P. C. A.,
Or to trusting Aunts and Sisters
    Sold as Sable Muffs and Wristers.

Oliver Herford

Introduction: More Beasts For Worse Children

The parents of the learned child
(His father and his mother)
Were utterly aghast to note
The facts he would at random quote
On creatures curious, rare, and wild;
And wondering, ask each other:
An idle little child like this,
How is it that he knows
What years of close analysis
Are powerless to disclose?
Our brains are trained, our books are big,
And yet we always fail
To answer why the Guinea-pig
Is born without a tail.
Or why the Wanderoo should rant
In wild, unmeaning rhymes,
Whereas the Indian Elephant
Will only read The Times.
Perhaps he found a way to slip
Unnoticed to the Zoo,
And gave the Pachyderm a tip,
Or pumped the Wanderoo.
Or even by an artful plan
Deceived our watchful eyes,
And interviewed the Pelican,

Hilaire Belloc

The Elephant

When people call this beast to mind,
They marvel more and more
At such a little tail behind,
So large a trunk before.

Hilaire Belloc