Now after this dinner of oats and of hay,
I’ll feel like a colt that is frisky and gay.
A horse they call handsome am I, and not old,
But many a time I’ve been bought and then sold.
My heels would go up, and my head would go down;
The young men would laugh and the old men would frown;
When bars I jumped over, the women would run;
The boys called it tricky, but I called it fun.
The mistress I now have is gentle and fair;
She always will give me the very best care;
I ought not to be frisky, her peace to destroy,
But a horse is as risky, alas, as a boy.
The dogs and the ducklings, the pretty white doves,
Are cared for by Horace, whom each of us loves.
Our mistress and master, and other friends dear,
We wish a bright Christmas and jolly New Year.
“UNEARTHED.”
The master’s three dogs were privileged to come into the house. One day
when they entered they knew at once there was something new in the
house, though nobody said so, and nothing was seen. Dogs are very wise
about some things.
These dogs were sure they were right, and they meant to prove it by
finding this new thing. They smelled of the chairs and the floor, and
trotted about through the house. In less time than could you or I, they
found the door that led to the room that contained the box that held the
new thing they were in search of. They pushed open the door; they walked
in; they looked at the box; they wagged their tails. By their manner,
one knew they were thinking, “I told you so! Our noses are better than
some people’s brains.”
The box was large; the cover was off. Nothing could be seen except a lot
of paper, but they knew there was something there besides paper. They
smelled of the paper, they smelled of the box. The odor excited their
nerves. They could stand it no longer. They tore off the paper and threw
it about.
One grew so excited he jumped in the box. His legs went round something,
he couldn’t tell what. It seemed like a creature that he must drag out.
He pulled with all his might, when up from the box there rose, like a
ghost, the head of a fox. His eyes were wide open and so was his mouth,
his ears stood straight and his tongue hung out. Such barking and
jumping! Trip couldn’t let go, for then the fox at once dropped below.
[Illustration]
And this was their plight when the master walked in. All were surprised.
The master looked queer. Scold them he wouldn’t; in fact he felt proud.
His dogs, without bidding, had “unearthed” the fox.