Little Bossy Whitefoot
Grazing in a field,
Eating all the green grass,
Such a tender yield;
Dreaming of the days,
When she would be a cow,
How she wished that very time
Would come just now.
She shook her frisky feet,
And wrinkled up her nose,
And tossed her pretty head,
Then trotted on her toes.
When—looking down, she saw
Two frightened eyes,
And there the Hare and Bossy stood
In mutual surprise!
"I'm sorry I have scared you,"
Said this Hare considerate,
"Good bye, I must be going,
For it is very late."
He turned him on his long legs,
He scuttled thro' the glade,
He held his head as if, forsooth,
HE never were afraid!