t go home, and we can't go home when the band begins to play.

Oh, see them swinging along, swinging along the street!
Left, right! buttons so bright, jackets and caps so neat.
Ho, the Fire Brigade, or a dress parade of the Soldier-men is grand;
But everyone, for regular fun, wants a Big-Brass-Band.

The slide-trombone is a joy alone, and the drummer! He's a treat!
So, Rackety-rumph! We don't go home--
Boom, Bumph! We won't go home--
Oh, we shan't go home, and we can't go home while the band is in the street.
Tooral-ooral, Oom-pah!
The band is in the street!

BESSIE AND THE BUNYIP

Bessie met a bunyip down along the track,
In his hand a billy and a swag upon his back.
And you will hardly believe it, but when Bessie shouted,"Shoo!"
He turned a double somersault and went quite blue.

GOOD ENOUGH

I do not think there ever was,
Or ever will, or ever could be,
A little girl or little boy
As good as she or as he should be.

But still, I think, you will agree,
Though perfect very, very few are,
They're not so bad when "pretty good"--
That's just about as good as you are.

THE PORTER

I'd like to be a porter, and always on the run,
Calling out, "Stand aside!" and asking leave of none.
Shoving trucks on people's toes, and having splendid fun,
Slamming all the carriage doors and locking every one--
And, when they asked to be let in, I'd say, "It can't be done."
But I wouldn't be a porter if . . .
The luggage weighed a ton.
Would you?

GROWING UP

Little Tommy Tadpole began to weep and wail,
For little Tommy Tadpole had lost his little tail;
And his mother didn't know him as he wept upon a log,
For he wasn't Tommy Tadpole, but Mr. Thomas Frog.

THE UNSOCIABLE WALLABY

Willie spied a wallaby hopping through the fern--
Here a jump, here a thump, there a sudden turn.
Willie called the wallaby, begging him to stop,
But he went among the wattles with a
flip,
flap,
flop!

* * *

I wonder whether, all together, you and I and father
Could eat a bun that weighs a ton. I'd like to try it, rather.

I want to know why roosters crow at dawning of the day.
Is it because they cannot think of something else to say?

* * *

THE SONG OF THE SULKY STOCKMAN

Come, let us sing