She took the most populous streets,
To cause but aversion in those,
Who saw how she ’d prinked,
And to bystanders winked,
While the boys cried, “Halloo! there she goes!”
It chanced, that, in passing one way,
She came near a pool, and a green
With fence close and high;
And, as Vivy drew nigh,
A donkey stood near it unseen.
He put his mouth over its top,
The moment she came by his place;
And gave a loud bray
In her ear, when, away
She sprang, shrieked, and fell on her face.
She thought she was swallowed alive,
Awhile upon earth lying flat;
And the terrible sound
Seemed to furrow the ground,
She embraced in her fine gown and hat.
She gathered herself up, and ran,
Yet heeded not whither or whence,
To flee from the roar,
That continued to pour
Behind her, from over the fence.
In passing a slope near the pool,
She slipped and rolled down to its brim;
The geese gave a shout,
And at length hissed her out
Of the bounds, where they ’d gathered to swim.
In turning a corner, she met
Abruptly, the horns of a cow
That mooed, while the cur,
At her heels, turned from her,
And aimed at Miss Vain his “bow-wow.”
Then Vivy’s bright ribbons and skirt,
As she flew, flirted high on the wind;
The children at play,
Paused to see one so gay,
And all in a flutter behind.
A group of glad schoolboys came by:
Said they, “So it seems, that to-day,
Miss Vain carries marks
At which the dog barks,
And that make sober Long-Ears to bray.”
And when, all bedraggled and pale,
Poor Vivy approached her own door,
She went, swift and straight
As a dart, through the gate,
Abhorring the gay gear she wore.