On Thursday last, the female Gnu presented the Zoo with a small, grey, white-tailed baby; but she kept the matter secret for a day or so. The director (Mr Wilkie) explained that gnus always hide their young in order to protect them till they are strong enough to walk.
They had a new gnu at the Zoo And nobody knew. Tho' the keeper, they say, had a clue; And that's probably true, Since he knew a new gnu was due, And well he knew, too, That the mother would hide it from view, As a natural gnu Will do. For the instinct, innate in the gnu, Known only to few Is to hide a new gnu lest it rue What ill-doers do. Why should nature, we wonder, imbue A beast like a gnu With such caution? This fact, hitherto, Few knew to be true. Did you? But they've found it at last at the Zoo -- Such a shy little gnu, White of tail and the coat that it grew Of indefinite hue. And now, I suppose, a long queue Will be waiting to view This nice little new Zoo gnu. Such sights ever drew Quite a crew. But who knew the new gnu at the Zoo For the first day or two? Who guessed where 'twas hidden, and who, As new rumors flew, Ever thought, ever dreamed ever drew Some vague hint, or grew Suspicious? Where was he? Who knew? Not the crane, not the white cockatoo Who ejaculates, "How do you do?" Not the apes all emblazoned in blue, Not the owl with his dreary "Too-woo!" Nor tapir, nor tiger who slew His prey 'mid the giant bamboo Once, back of Bengal, in Kooloo; Not elephant, not kangaroo, None knew; none knew; Not a man, not a beast in the Zoo From its hub to its furthrest purlieu . . . But the new gnu knew. Too true!
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2004-07|