Answer:
There are 30 cows and 28 chickens. How many didn't?
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
Black we are and much admired. Many seek us if they are tired. We tire the horse, and comfort man, and turn White when we've fulfilled your plan.
Two little holes in the side of a hill. Just as you come to the cherry-red mill.
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own. What are they?
The warmer I am the fresher I am.