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From Rude Rural Rhymes by Bob Adams, New York: The Macmillan Company; 1925; pp. 67-68.



O there are many breeds of kine,
The Shorthorn coarse, the Jersey fine,
The black and white of ancient line,
As well as scrub or garden cows
That on our rugged hillsides browse.
On weeds and grass and leaves of trees,
They ruminate upon their knees,
And thus extract the vitamines
From forty different kinds of greens.
I oft have sung, I sing again
The uses of fresh milk to men.
To hymn its praises I never tire;
My thumb is ever on my lyre.
I learned its use when very young;
It suits my palate and my tongue.
I drink a pint from time to time,
Then straightway write a Rural Rhyme.
We need some vitamines each day;
They help us work, they help us play.
Had we four stomachs like the kine,
We too on foliage might dine,
On daisy, dock and buttercup,
We too might breakfast, lunch, and sup,
[68] And thus obtain the A’s and B’s
And other vitamines like these.
But since we have one tummy each
And bulky foods are out of reach,
Let’s keep good cows upon the land,
The Guernsey or some other brand,
And get our clover second hand.

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