Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (1st ed.).djvu/35

 

"There's one where that dog is; he's shifted; ne'er mind,
They'll all be crept into one corner you'll find.
Halloo! there's a great un'! Hie Tartar!—good lad;
He's got him: look yonder, they're bolting like mad."
My soul, there's a scuffle—"Be careful, I begs,
You'll have those fork-tines into somebody's legs!"
"Look out, Mr. Benton; there's one at your back,
On the top of the chaff-hole—just give him a crack."
"Mind, mind where you're hitting—there's one up the wall."
Oh! I thought it a mouse, by its being so small."
"No, no, it's a rat, look; and here are the rest;
There's twelve or thirteen of them down in this nest."
They are nearing the bottom, each sheaf they displace
Yields a rat, which produces a kill, or a race.
"Good Tartar!—hie, Nettle!—dead, dead!—Pincher drop it."
"There's one up the wall again—Petipher, stop it."
"Now, clumsey!—"he's miss'd him!" "Oh! he's safe enough;
He's popped through that air hole and into the sough."
"Bill Hawkins, run round, lad, and look out a bit,
They're certain to make for the kid pile or pit."