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The Riding Lesson Our horse named Gyp, could really run. One day I thought it would be fun To catch her, though I had been told "Now don't ride Gyp, she's far too bold." I shook a pail of oats and she Came trotting cross the field to me. I grabbed her halter, held her fast And clambered to her back at last. She turned her head and I could tell She wasn't taking it too well. We ambled down the lane as though There wasn't any place to go. Gyp suddenly began to trot And then to gallop, while I fought To stay aboard and gain control. She headed for a swampy hole And when she reached the edge I knew Just what she had in mind to do. She bucked me off; I flew with grace And landed flat upon my face. The murky water covered me. Floundering upward, I could see That horse was gone and I must walk. I hoped I wouldn't have to talk To anyone, but not to be For when I got home, company Had driven in and waited there. They watched my progress with an air Of stunned disbelief, not sure just who Was underneath the mud and goo. For years I couldn't stand that horse! (Although it was my fault of course!) |
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