The Keeper

I like the Keeper of the Zoo And ask him many things As, "What do armadillos do?" "Why racoon's tails have rings?" And he answers me the best he can For he is a very clever man.

He is not young, he is not old, But just the nicest age; He tells me he can't bear to hold A wild beast in a cage,— But if the town must have a Zoo There's plenty there for him to do.

He knows each animal and bird, And gives them pleasant names; Some that I've never even heard, And some like "William James;" That's the gorilla's name;—but still he Usually calls him "Willie."

Beside the new and homesick ones The Keeper stops to smile; His lumps of sugar and his buns They take—after a while. So then he pats them,—and I know They simply hate to see him go.

I'd love to keep the Zoo with him When I am in my prime, Though that day seems as far and dim As the other end of time.— But mother takes me there, 'tis true When she has nothing else to do.