An Immortal Poem


The  Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup 
Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up; 
They looked upon the Creature with a loathing undisguised;— 
It wasn't Disinfected and it wasn't Sterilized. 
 
They said it was a Microbe and a Hotbed of Disease;         
They steamed it in a vapor of a thousand-odd degrees; 
They froze it in a freezer that was cold as Banished Hope 
And washed it in permanganate with carbolated soap. 
 
In sulphurated hydrogen they steeped its wiggly ears; 
They trimmed its frisky whiskers with a pair of hard-boiled shears;   
They donned their rubber mittens and they took it by the hand 
And elected it a member of the Fumigated Band. 
 
There's not a Micrococcus in the garden where they play; 
They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day; 
And each imbibes his rations from a Hygienic Cup—   
The Bunny and the Baby and the Prophylactic Pup.
 
Arthur Guiterman, Strictly Germ-Proof 

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