Lizzie sat astride the horse, so proud of being painted, Squirming up, and squirming down — The artist nearly fainted. How can I paint you, Lizzie dear? You keep on changing poses. Look across the garden, dear, and think about the roses. The horse stands still despite the way you’re bouncing all around him. Please sit still or all I’ll paint is just a portrait of him. Lizzie heard, and tried real hard at keeping to one posture For a minute, maybe two, until a bird called to her. Then she moved again to see the bird, the sky and flowers. Sitting still was just a thing too far beyond her powers. Thinking hard, the artist ran alaughing to the stable, Came right back with just the thing that made dear Lizzie able To hold a pose for long enough to let the artist paint her, By wearing what the artist found — the puzzled horse’s blinders.