| Punky Dunk would peep, though he seemed asleep, |
| At the bird in its cage of brass, |
| And his tail he swayed when the gold fish played |
| In their clear little bowl of glass. |
| "Though my coat's like silk from my drinking milk," |
| He would say, "I often wish |
| I might change my food——as I think I should—— |
| To a meal on a nice plump fish." |
| So he winked his eye and he heaved a sigh, |
| And he said: "I really think |
| That it would be grand to jump on that stand |
| And see how the fishes drink." |
