That he was willing, and, moreover, able,
To tell the secrets of each trainer's stable;
He said, for instance, Bowe's Springy Jack
Was nothing better than a common hack;
That Surplice was a "book horse," nothing more,
And said, in fact, that he had heard him roar;
"You bet against him," were the words he said,
"And don't be frightened, he's as good as dead!"
I've not a moment's doubt he was a "bonnet,"
But be that as it may, we acted on it,
And I conceive a perfect right we've got
To be for evermore among Green's lot!"
I. Noet,
Late of Droppet Hall,
Now of Skinner Street, London.
The Blue Jackets.
[Set to Music, and may be had of D'Almaine, London, to whom the copyright belongs.]
What! a Sailor hang back when there 's war on his tack!
Why, what blessed moonshine good laws!
Let the foe fire a gun, Jack would fight him for fun,
Let alone our most glorious cause,
Let alone our most glorious cause.
