Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (3rd ed.).djvu/97

 

Instead of the rein
He lays hold of the mane,
And he holdeth his breath,
For he*s frightened to death.

Oh! why did he mount him, alas! for the day;
See, the horse lays his ears down, he*s running away;
On! on! 'mong the "ruck," over hedge, ditch, and stile,
By dint of the pummel he holds on a mile;
Till they came to a bullfinch,
When, sad thing to say,
A "purler" went Maxwell,
And there Maxwell lay.

Much bruised was his body, all torn were his clothes,
He has knocked his &ont teeth out, and flattened his nose,
So that not his best friends would be able to know, sir,
That they saw Mr. Mortimer Maxwell the grocer.
A man named George Smart
Took him home in his cart,
Thus playing a country
Samaritan's part.

Of "hunting" our grocer has had quite enough;
By the squire he's been christen'd a "Jolly Old Muff;"
Retirement to him has brought nothing but pain,
So he says he shall go into business again.