TO A VAUDEVILLE TERRIER SEEN ON A LEASH, IN THE PARK

Three times a day — at two, at seven, at nine —

O terrier, you play your little part:

Absurd in coat and skirt you push a cart,

With inner anguish walk a tight-rope line.

Up there, before the hot and dazzling shine

You must be rigid servant of your art,

Nor watch those fluffy cats — your doggish heart

Might leap and then betray you with a whine!

But sometimes, when you've faithfully rehearsed,

Your trainer takes you walking in the park,

Straining to sniff the grass, to chase a frog.

The leash is slipped, and then your joy will burst —

Adorable it is to run and bark,

To be — alas, how seldom — just a dog!