THE SHOREDITCH HANDICAP
 
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I went out last Easter time to Epping's calm retreat
Some dear old sporting pals of mine I'd there arranged to meet
There was Billy Smith the cobbler, and some others in a trap
Who'd all come down on purpose for the Shoreditch Handicap.

Chorus: Martha whacked the donkey, the donkey wouldn't go.
'Gee up! Gee up!' they shouted, but the moke preferred to whoa.
She banged him with her gingham, while the moke enjoyed a nap
And the odds were dead against her in the Shoreditch Handicap.


I led the way for half a mile, with Billy in the rear
And for my splendid jockey-ship I got a hearty cheer
But in the centre of the course I met with a mishap
Which quite destroyed my chance to win the Shoreditch Handicap.

Chorus:

The race seemed now a certainty for Billy Smith, the snob
And all the fancy said that he was fairly on the job
They said the donkey had no chance of pulling off the cup
But I'd a strong impression that he'd win with Martha up.

Chorus: Martha whacked the donkey, the donkey wouldn't go.
'Gee up! Gee up!' they shouted, but the moke preferred to whoa.
When suddenly he bolted, like a rat out of a trap
And shot her clean beyond the post, she won the Handicap!
 
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Performed by Harry Randall (1857-1932)
 
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