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_THE BEAR A BLESSING._

To people of Kamtschatka, The bear a blessing proves; His skin forms beds and coverlets, And bonnets, shoes, and gloves.

His flesh and fat are dainties, And of his intestine, Is made a mask for warding off The glare of Sun in Spring.

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'Tis also used for windows, As substitute for glass; Of shoulder-blade a tool is made, That's used for cutting grass.

Norwegians think the Bear is More sensible than men; While Laplands call him "Dog of God,"

And dare not him offend.

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_FRUITS_

The fruits of the orchard and garden Are beautiful, luscious and good, Partake of them freely, dear children, But eat them at meals with your food.

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_THE RACCOON._

Come, child, and see our pet Raccoon,-- The Raccoons live in the woods, you know; But ours was caught, And caged, and brought From old Virginia, long ago.

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Oh, no, you need not be afraid.

See, he is fastened with a chain; For ropes enough He has gnawed off, And he is hard to catch again.

He e'en will climb this ten-foot fence, And, careless where his feet may strike, He tumbles, bang!

And there will hang, His rope being caught by vine or spike.

And once the rascal ran away; Was gone for days, and maybe weeks; When children came, And charging blame, Said, "Your Raccoon has caught our chicks."

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"He's on our roof a-making mouth, And chatters when we would go near.

We wish you'd come and take time home, So that our chick need not fear."

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So now he's chained; yet up he'll climb The stake to which he's fastened tight, And mutter low, So pleading, Oh!

'T would make you sorry for him, quite.

Just see his nose, so pointed, sharp,-- His ears as keen as keen can be,-- His eyes so bright, So full of light, And see him leap right merrily!

His fur, you see, is yellowish gray,-- And he is nearly two feet long; He lives on roots, And nuts and fruits, When he's his native woods among.

But here we give him bread and milk; He never eats like dogs or lambs, But takes it up From out the cup With his fore-foot, as we use hands.

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You'd laugh to see him, I am sure; Of strawberries, too, he's very fond; Will poke around Till he has found Each one among the hulls out-thrown.

Then, too, he's fond of nice clean clothes, Will spring for sheet hung out to dry; And children dressed In very best, Are sure to please his dainty eye.

No matter where his feet have been, He'll spring and plant them, little pest, On something white, And then will fight To hold, and hide it in his nest.

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You've "come again to see our Coon"?

Well, he is gone; he plagued us so, We sent the "Rac"

To Central Park, Where you can see him when you go.

Oh yes, they're glad to get him, there; They have no clothes hung out to dry; And children aye Must stand away, For there a keeper's always nigh.

A "Yes" and "No" are common, hard, But "yes'm," "no-sir," choice;-- Let none but sweet and gentle words Flow from your gift of voice.

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_THE BANK-SWALLOWS._

In a village of Bank-Swallows, You will find so many a nest, "That you scarce can tell their number Nor which one of them is best."

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In the sand-hill, see the openings, Round or oval odd-shaped, some, Size and form depending often, On how loose the sand become.

When with their short bills they pecked it, Clinging fast with claws the while, Till they made an open door-way Suiting them in size and style.

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