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THE
MONTHLY SCRAP BOOK.
THE COCK FIGHT,
A BURLESQUE SKETCH
Here his poor bird, th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel, and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
When fallen, the savage grasps his dappled plumes,
His blood-stained arms for other deaths assumes;
And damns the Craven fowl, that lost his stake,
And only bled and perished for his sake.
Ceabbe.
It is not thirty years since the barbarous practice of fighting Cocks at Fasten's-even was, as an annual entertainment, given by the teacher of almost every parish school to his scholars. When, how, or for what reason, this absurdity in the education of children crept into schools, is not easy to determine. We have assuredly a more enlightened body in that profession now; and the "Schoolmaster” of these days is so effectually "abroad,” that we hope there is not one who would permit, or even countenance by his presence, such a relic of a barbarous age. We also hope there are but few, even of village publicans, who would be so accomodating as Jonathan Jollie; and we record the following history as a sketch of the folly of former times.
They crowd to the scene of action (Jonathan ollie's malt-barn floor); the field is cleared; and ne dreadful conflict begins. The combatants are laced against each other by lot, and most unequal matches were the result. The first pair who
