Kangaroo bounded away, his back-legs working like pistons—­
Bounded from morning till dark, twenty-five feet at a bound. 
Yellow-Dog Dingo lay like a yellow cloud in the distance—­
Much too busy to bark.  My! but they covered the ground!

Nobody knows where they went, or followed the track that they flew in,
For that Continent hadn’t been given a name. 
They ran thirty degrees, from Torres Straits to the Leeuwin
(Look at the Atlas, please), then they ran back as they came.

S’posing you could trot from Adelaide to the Pacific,
For an afternoon’s run—­half what these gentlemen did—­
You would feel rather hot, but your legs would develop terrific—­
Yes, my importunate son, you’d be a Marvellous Kid!

    The Sing-Song of Old Man Kangaroo.

I’ve never sailed the Amazon,
  I’ve never reached Brazil;
But the Don and Magdalena,
  They can go there when they will!

     Yes, weekly from Southampton,
     Great steamers, white and gold,
     Go rolling down to Rio
     (Roll down—­roll down to Rio!). 
     And I’d like to roll to Rio
     Some day before I’m old!

I’ve never seen a Jaguar,
  Nor yet an Armadill—­
O dilloing in his armour,
  And I s’pose I never will,

     Unless I go to Rio
     These wonders to behold—­
     Roll down—­roll down to Rio—­
     Roll really down to Rio! 
     Oh, I’d love to roll to Rio
     Some day before I’m old!

    The Beginning of the Armadilloes.

China-going P. and O.’s
Pass Pau Amma’s playground close,
And his Pusat Tasek lies
Near the track of most B.I.’s. 
N.Y.K. and N.D.L. 
Know Pau Amma’s home as well
As the Fisher of the Sea knows
‘Bens,’ M.M.’s, and Rubattinos. 
But (and this is rather queer)
A.T.L.’s can not come here;
O. and O. and D.O.A. 
Must go round another way. 
Orient, Anchor, Bibby, Hall,
Never go that way at all. 
U.C.S. would have a fit
If it found itself on it. 
And if ‘Beavers’ took their cargoes
To Penang instead of Lagos,
Or a fat Shaw-Savill bore
Passengers to Singapore,
Or a White Star were to try a
Little trip to Sourabaya,
Or a B.S.A. went on
Past Natal to Cheribon,
Then great Mr. Lloyds would come
With a wire and drag them home!

* * * * *

You’ll know what my riddle means
When you’ve eaten mangosteens.

    The Crab that Played with the Sea.

Pussy can sit by the fire and sing,
  Pussy can climb a tree,
Or play with a silly old cork and string
  To ’muse herself, not me. 
But I like Binkie my dog, because
  He knows how to behave;
So, Binkie’s the same as the First Friend was,
  And I am the Man in the Cave!

Pussy will play man-Friday till
  It’s time to wet her paw
And make her walk on the window-sill
  (For the footprint Crusoe saw);
Then she fluffles her tail and mews,
  And scratches and won’t attend. 
But Binkie will play whatever I choose,
  And he is my true First Friend!