"O Peggy! put me down I pray!
I ride in mortal dread!
Do make him stop,
Or I shall drop
And break my wooden head!"
E'en as those piteous words she spoke,
They struck a fearful "snag"
Their grips they lost,
And both were tossed
Upon the cruel "flag".
[Illustration]
Their senses for a moment gone,
They lay in ghastly plight;
Their fiery steed
From burden freed,
Maintained his onward flight.
Then each in aching consciousness
Rose slowly with sad groans;
Next faced about
With angry shout,
Followed by tears and moans.
[Illustration]
Each blamed the other for the fall;
Until, in gentler mood,
Their hurts they dress,
While both confess
The crying did them good.
A wooden crutch poor Peggy finds
To help her on her feet;
Both solemn-faced
Their steps retraced
To where they first did meet.
[Illustration]
But sorrow's tears are quickly dried
With dolls as well as men.--
A jolly crowd
All laughing loud
(I think you'll count just ten.)
Mounted a little wooden cart,
While Peggy, brave and tried,
Got up in front
To bear the brunt
Of "Hobby's" mighty stride.
[Illustration]
Finding a pleasant open space,
Gay Peg' unships her load;
Suggests a game
Which, it is plain,
Will soon be quite the "mode."
She tells of former Christmas nights,
When many of her kind,
At leap-frog played,
And merry made,
Fast running like the wind.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21