My Mule Ride
Dublin Core
Title
My Mule Ride
Creator
Madge Merrill
Source
http://addison.vt.edu/record=b1775388~S1
Publisher
Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University
Date
May 1877
Contributor
Abbey Williams, Peter Royal
Rights
Permission to publish images from The Gray Jacket must be obtained from Special Collections, Virginia Tech.
Format
Text
Language
English
Type
Poem
Identifier
LD5655.V8 L4, ser.1, v.2, no.7 (May 1877), p.1-2
Text Item Type Metadata
Text
Hark! Do you not hear the thud of feet?
"Tis mules, they're coming up our street.
Two students ride them now; I see
But one is saddled, I know for me.
Oh! look what fun
Has now begun.
See doughty "Rob" in riding habit;
(Good gracious me, how he does grab it !)
At last he's fixed in girl's array,
And will some mulish feats display.
But no! 'Tis gentle now as ever,
I really think that mule's quite clever.
He does not mind the riding skirt,
Nor does he throw "Rob" in the dirt.
So where can any danger be,
If I now ride him; I don't see.
We are mounted, but we'll have to pace
'Till out of town—then for a race.
"Now, Liza, town is left behind,
We'll travel onward like the wind.
Quick! Up and away;
Let's make a display!
This hill is not steep,
Fast, up it we'll sweep.
When at the gate of Mountain View
You open it, and we ride through.
Up to the house we'll dashing go;
Our mules will then make a fine show.'
But alack, and alas!
Think what comes to pass;
My saddle turns over,
Like poor "Julia Glover."
I tumble off upon the ground,
Before I've time to glance around;
But not like poor "Julia Glober,"
Who "stuck in de mud, so she couldn't
turn ober."
I find the road both hard and stoney;
(Lucky for me I am not boney;)
Although I am not hurt at all,
I get up feeling rather small.
My saddle is tightened;
And not at all frightened
We start again.
Dust flies like rain.
To the house on the hill
We dash with a will.
They see us, and come running out
With something like a shout;
One says she would not "horse-back" go
On the best mule that we could show.
"Sour grapes" say I, for you love fun
As much as any other one.
"But come, we'll onward with our ride,
Or 'twill be after eventide."
To the Springs we gayly pace it,
And occasionally race it;
Making ploughmen in surprise
Gaze at us with open eyes.
Homeward now we almost run;
Oh I did you ever have such fun?"
When at a gate, not far from town,
My mule stops short, and looks around.
"Oh! muley, go on; there now, do,
Or else I whip you black and blue."
He starts at last;
That gate is past.
He goes ahead
With steady tread
'Till we are come
All safe to home.
Now, though you may think I'm a fool,
I will tell you that I like a mule.
"Tis mules, they're coming up our street.
Two students ride them now; I see
But one is saddled, I know for me.
Oh! look what fun
Has now begun.
See doughty "Rob" in riding habit;
(Good gracious me, how he does grab it !)
At last he's fixed in girl's array,
And will some mulish feats display.
But no! 'Tis gentle now as ever,
I really think that mule's quite clever.
He does not mind the riding skirt,
Nor does he throw "Rob" in the dirt.
So where can any danger be,
If I now ride him; I don't see.
We are mounted, but we'll have to pace
'Till out of town—then for a race.
"Now, Liza, town is left behind,
We'll travel onward like the wind.
Quick! Up and away;
Let's make a display!
This hill is not steep,
Fast, up it we'll sweep.
When at the gate of Mountain View
You open it, and we ride through.
Up to the house we'll dashing go;
Our mules will then make a fine show.'
But alack, and alas!
Think what comes to pass;
My saddle turns over,
Like poor "Julia Glover."
I tumble off upon the ground,
Before I've time to glance around;
But not like poor "Julia Glober,"
Who "stuck in de mud, so she couldn't
turn ober."
I find the road both hard and stoney;
(Lucky for me I am not boney;)
Although I am not hurt at all,
I get up feeling rather small.
My saddle is tightened;
And not at all frightened
We start again.
Dust flies like rain.
To the house on the hill
We dash with a will.
They see us, and come running out
With something like a shout;
One says she would not "horse-back" go
On the best mule that we could show.
"Sour grapes" say I, for you love fun
As much as any other one.
"But come, we'll onward with our ride,
Or 'twill be after eventide."
To the Springs we gayly pace it,
And occasionally race it;
Making ploughmen in surprise
Gaze at us with open eyes.
Homeward now we almost run;
Oh I did you ever have such fun?"
When at a gate, not far from town,
My mule stops short, and looks around.
"Oh! muley, go on; there now, do,
Or else I whip you black and blue."
He starts at last;
That gate is past.
He goes ahead
With steady tread
'Till we are come
All safe to home.
Now, though you may think I'm a fool,
I will tell you that I like a mule.