“The very ducklings look more downy
Than others do.” He grinned: “An’ why?
May happen, Sir, we feeds a brownie!
“‘There isn’t many left,’ says you;
As hearts grow hard the breed gets rarer;
Yet, when he goes, the luck goes too,
And prices fall and boards be barer;
But if so be you does your part
An’ feeds him fair and treats folk proper,
Keepin’ for all the kindly heart—