The Yak.

THIS is the Yak, so neg-li-gée:
His coif-fure's like a stack of hay;
He lives so far from Any-where,
I fear the Yak neg-lects his hair,
And thinks, since there is none to see,
What mat-ter how un-kempt he be.
How would he feel if he but knew
That in this Pic-ture-book I drew
His Phys-i-og-no-my un-shorn,
For chil-dren to de-ride and scorn?

Oliver Herford

Oliver Herford was born in England on December 2, 1860. He was a British-born American writer, artist, and illustrator, often referred to as 'The American Oscar Wilde' for his sharp wit and humorous works. Herford authored and illustrated many books for children and adults, contributing to magazines such as "The Criterion", "Life", and "Punch". He died on July 5, 1935, in France.

Oliver Herford

The Smoker's Year Book

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

An Arctic Hare.

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

In Darkest Africa

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

Kitten's Night Thought

Oliver Herford, Simple Poetry

English

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The Leopard.

THIS is the Le-o-pard, my child;
His tem-per's any-thing but mild.
The Le-o-pard can't change his spots,
And that - so say the Hot-ten-tots -
Is why he is so wild.
Year in, year out, he may not change,
No mat-ter how the wea-ther range,
From cold to hot. No won-der, child,
We hear the Le-o-pard is wild.

Oliver Herford

Billy's Alphabetical Animal Show.

A was an elegant Ape
Who tied up his ears with red tape,
    And wore a long veil
    Half revealing his tail
Which was trimmed with jet bugles and crape.

B was a boastful old Bear
Who used to say, - "Hoomh! I declare
    I can eat - if you'll get me
    The children, and let me -
Ten babies, teeth, toenails and hair!"

C was a Codfish who sighed
When snatched from the home of his pride,
    But could he, embrined,
    Guess this fragrance behind,
How glad he would be that he died!

D was a dandified Dog
Who said, - "Though it's raining like fog
    I wear no umbrellah,
    Me boy, for a fellah
Might just as well travel incog!"

E was an elderly Eel
Who would say, - "Well, I really feel -
    As my grandchildr...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Elephant.

This is the El-e-phant, who lives
With but one aim - to please.
His i-vo-ry tusk he free-ly gives
To make pi-a-no keys.
One grief he has - how-e'er he tries,
He nev-er can for-get
That one of his e-nor-mous size
Can't be a house-hold pet.
Then does he to his grief give way,
Or sink 'neath sor-row's ban?
Oh, no; in-stead he spends each day
Con-tri-ving some un-sel-fish way
To be of use to Man.

Oliver Herford

On A Delightful Drawing In My Album,

By my friend, T. WOODWARD, ESQ., of a Group, consisting of a Donkey, a Boy, and a Dog.


Welcome, my pretty Neddy--welcome too
Thy merry Rider with his apron blue;
And thou, poor Dog, most patient thing of all,
Begging for morsels that may never fall!
Oh! 'tis a faithful group--and it might shame
Painters of bold pretence, and greater name--
To see how nature triumphs, and how rare
Such matchless proofs of Nature's triumphs are--
The smallest particle of sand may tell
With what rich ore Pactolus' tide may swell:
And Woodward! this ingenious, chaste design,
Proclaims what treasures lie within the mine--
Pupil of Cooper--Nature's favorite son--
Whom, but to name, and to admire, is one!

Thomas Gent

Soliloquy Of A Turkey

Dey 's a so't o' threatenin' feelin' in de blowin' of de breeze,
An' I 's feelin' kin' o' squeamish in de night;
I 's a-walkin' 'roun' a-lookin' at de diffunt style o' trees,
An' a-measurin' dey thickness an' dey height.
Fu' dey 's somep'n mighty 'spicious in de looks de da'kies give,
Ez dey pass me an' my fambly on de groun,'
So it 'curs to me dat lakly, ef I caihs to try an' live,
It concehns me fu' to 'mence to look erroun'.

Dey's a cu'ious kin' o' shivah runnin' up an' down my back,
An' I feel my feddahs rufflin' all de day,
An' my laigs commence to trimble evah blessid step I mek;
W'en I sees a ax, I tu'ns my head away.
Folks is go'gin' me wid goodies, an' dey 's treatin' me wid caih,
An' I 's fat in spite of all dat I kin do.
I 's mistrus'ful of de kin'ness ...

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Giraffe.

SEE the Gi-raffe; he is so tall
There is not room to get him all
U-pon the page. His head is high-er -
The pic-ture proves it - than the Spire.
That's why the na-tives, when they race
To catch him, call it stee-ple-chase.
His chief de-light it is to set
A good example: shine or wet
He rises ere the break of day,
And starts his break-fast right away.
His food has such a way to go, -
His throat's so very long, - and so
An early break-fast he must munch
To get it down ere time for lunch.

Oliver Herford