TO
MISS DICKENS' POMERANIAN.
"MRS. BOUNCER."
urry, lazy, warm and bright,
Peeping from her fringe of white.
She blinks and sleeps both day and night,
A happy Spitz!
She need not fear the cruel stick,
Nor has she learnt a single trick—
Just deigns her mistress' hand to lick,
As she knits.
She eats, and drinks, and eats again,
Is never out in wind or rain,—
Takes many a journey in the train,
That lucky Spitz!
The guard for other dogs has knocks—
For her ne'er points to gloomy box,
But courteously the door unlocks,
And her admits.
She has her own coquettish charms,
Knows no sorrows, no alarms,
And dozes in her mistress' arms—
A sleepy Spitz.
How small and piquant are her feet—
Ben Allen's sister had as neat—
She looks so saucy, one could beat
Her into fits.
Quite ravishing when neat and clean,
Her ears seem lined with crinoline
She rules the house, a haughty queen,
A saucy Spitz!
Just tolerates the frequent hug—
Snoozing all day upon the rug,
Complacent, philosophic—snug,
Her paws like nuts.
At dinner—ah! that pleasant Babel!
Touch her paw beneath the table,
She'd bite your foot—were she but able—
A naughty Spitz.
To find her mistress how she flew!
Faithful the coming step she knew
Let others be a brave and true—
Lords or Wits!
When Sultan, Turk, and Linda fleet
The lost lov'd Master rushed to meet,
His kindly voice would always greet
The little Spitz!
Alas! so furry, warm, and white,
From this cold world she took her flight,
No more on rug, by fireside bright,
Dear Bouncer sits.
Percy FitzGerald.
