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The Vagabond and Other Poems from Punch by R. C. Lehmann
page 66 of 84 (78%)
At the solid wood between us;
Duke attempts to lift the latch;
It's a month since they have seen us--
Open! Good!

Down, Duke, down! Enough, enough!
Soo-Ti's screaming; seize his scruff.
Soo-Ti's having fearful fits;
Duke is tearing us to bits.
One will trip us, one will throw us--
But, the darlings, _don't_ they know us!

Then off with a clatter the long dog leapt, and, oh, what a race he ran,
At the hurricane pace of a minute a mile, as only a long dog can.
Into and out of the bushes he pierced like a shooting star;
And now he thundered around us, and now he was whirling far.
And the little dog gazed till he seemed amazed,
and then he took to it too;
With shrill notes flung from his pert pink tongue
right after his friend he flew;
And the long legs lashed and the short legs flashed
and scurried like anything,
While Duke ran round in a circle and Soo-Ti ran in a ring.

And last they hurtled amongst us, and then there were tales to tell,
For all of us seemed to be scattered and torn,
and all of us shrieked and fell;
And John, who is plump, got an awful bump,
and Helen, who's tall and thin,
Was shot through a shrub and gained in bruise
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