There wos toffs, fair top new 'uns, mixed hup with the welcher, the froth
with the scum;
There wos duchesses, proud as DIANNER, and she-things as sniffed of the slum;
There was "champions" thick as bluebottles, and plungers as plenty as peas,
With stoney-brokes, pale as a poultice, and "crocks," orful gone at the knees;
I see a whole howling mix-up of "mug" booky, dog-owner and rough,
A-watching of snaky-shaped hounds pelting 'ard 'after bits o' brown fluff,
I see--and the Sportsman within me began for to bubble and burn,
And I yelled, "O my hazure-horbed Mistress, can't you and me 'ave jest
a turn?"
We _did_, and my "Purdey Extractor" made play, though it ain't me to brag,
But somehow her arrers went straighter, and 'ers wos the heaviest bag.
"Let _me_ 'ave a try, Miss," sez I, "with that trifle from Lowther Arcade!"
I tried, and hit one of her dogs, as she didn't think sport I'm afraid.
The 'ound didn't seem much to mind it; immortal, I spose, like Miss D.;
Then we 'ad a slap arter the deer, and she'd very soon nailed two or three.
_I_ wos out of it, couldn't pot one, and it needled me orful, dear boy,
To be licked by a gal, _though_ a goddess, and armed with a archery toy!
Her togs wos a little bit quisby--for moors as ain't pitched in the Moon,
And _there wasn't no pic-nic, dear boy!_ I got peckish and parched pooty
soon.
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