A frantic clatter of horses' feet! A runaway's coming down the street! Flurry, scurry, Children, hurry! Drop your playthings! Quick! don't wait! Run and get within the gate! Push the baby in the door, Scramble in yourselves before —Whoa! Whoa! There they go! Pell-mell rushing, snorting, quaking, Wagon rumbling, harness breaking, Frightened so they cannot know Everybody's shrieking "Whoa!" O my, don't cry! Whiz, bang, they've galloped by! Round a post and wagon smashed! Dear me! Dear me! When a runaway we see, Children, too, must run, oh, fast! Run and hide as it goes past! |