. . . But their heavy weights upon the ice, it grieves me to relate,
Were more than it could bear, and so they tumbled in like this!
.
Animal Antics
By Louis Wain
Illustration by Matthews.
S. W. Partridge & Co: London. Ca 1900-1910.
THE SINGING, SOARING LARK.
“I have seen the white dove, it has flown to the Red Sea, there it has become a lion again, for the seven years are over, and the lion is there fighting with a dragon; the dragon, however, is an enchanted princess.”
Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
Translated from the German By Margaret Hunt.
Illustrated By John B. Gruelle.
Cupples and Leon Company: New York. Ca 1914.
An Old Fable Re-Told. – By Aesop Junior.
There was once a donkey – otherwise an ass – though a donkey can hardly have been even other-wise! Well, this ass (I do not speak sneeringly of him, for donkeys cannot help being asses), as I was saying, this creature lived in the strange country known as Animal-land, where there are no people, and we can only guess at the fun that goes on.
Animal Antics.
Louis Wain.
S. W. Partridge & Co: London. Ca 1900-1910.
“THE BUMBLE DRAGON”
All at once he came to an open place with huge rocks in it, and right in the middle lay an enormous Dragon.
He was sound asleep and snoring in a low rumble, every now and then coming to a very loud snort, and mumbling afterward.
Billy took a good long look at him. His body looked like a gigantic lizard with a long snake’s tail. His large webbed feet had claws like an eagle. But his head! Oh! What a funny head he had. It looked like a cow’s head, only there were scales on it, and a lion’s mane, and dog’s ears. Billy was just beginning to wonder why he was called a Bumble Dragon when he saw the great transparent wings of a Bumble Bee folded over his back.
From the Story “THE BUMBLE DRAGON”
Billy Popgun
Written and Illustrated by Milo Winter.
Houghton Mifflin Company: Boston & New York. 1912.
Miss. Mouse is learning music, but she always plays with fear,
Although her brother, as you see, is bravely sitting near.
For at her elbow sits the teacher, Mr. Roar,
Who growls to hear her miss a note, which makes her stumble more.
Oh, when I choose my teacher, he shall have a gentle way,
For if I’m made to tremble, I shall never learn to play.