Classic Poem

The Hobby Horse said,
As he shook his head:
“It's a long, long ways to go
O'er the white snow's foam
To the little boy's home;
But I hear the tin horns blow,
And must race away 'till I'm out o' breath
To the Little Boy who will ride me to death!”

And the Toy Drum said:
“I've a hardened head,
And away on my sticks I'll go
From this icy dome
To the Little Boy's home—
I can beat my way through the snow!
Away! away! 'till I'm out o' breath,
To the Little Boy who will beat me to death!”

And the Toy Doll said,
As her gold-crowned head
Shone over the wintry snow:
“To the Little Girls
Of the golden curls
In a fairy coach I'll go;
Far—far away, 'till I'm out of breath,
To the Little Girls who will kiss me to death!”

But the Elephant said:
“If that way I'm led,
And they treat you all so bad,
I tell you now
That there'll be a row,
And they'll wish they never had!
For I'll pack them all in my trunk, you see,
And lock it, and throw away the key!”