by Leonard Pounds Sorry, sir, don't want to squeeze yer, It's a jolly tight fit on this tram Ter git on at all was a teaser, It's the race meeting causes this jamb Am I goin' miself, sir? Why rather, I'm straight away ter the course I in'erits the feelin' from father, That feelin' of love of a 'orse. Of course you're a parson, sir, ain't yer And thinks as 'orse racin' ain't right P'raps yer thinks ter sit next ter me'll taint right But it ain't - 'arf a mo - got a light? Thankee, sir, No, it ain't fair, sir, To call us racin' boys wrong I'll tell yer a tale if yer care, sir, Will yer listen? it ain't very long. "I was groom at the time of this story, Groom to old Squire 'Ackerday 'E'd raced till 'is old 'ead was 'oary, And still 'ad 'is plunge Derby Day At the time of which I'm now relatin', 'E 'ad a fine mare bein' trained (An' ter you, sir, I don't mind a statin', 'Is finances was just a bit strained). She was entered for sev'ral big races And this time was the eve of the chief In the mornin' she'd shewn us 'er paces An' 'er quickness was nigh past belief It was just two-er-clock in the mornin' No, it wasn't, 'twas three - I'm a liar At any rate, day was just dawnin', When up went the great cry of 'Fire'. Big flames was a-lickin' the stables But I rushed through them all in a flash For the mare was in one of them stables And I brought down the door wiv a crash The smoke and the flames, sir, was shockin' But I managed ter collar our Kate Our Kate wiv the pretty white stockin' Thank 'eaven I wasn't too late. The smoke 'ad been thick - that's a fact, sir And I gasped as I reached the fresh air I'd risked my young life by the act, sir, But I'd saved the Squire's thoroughbred mare So don't say all racin' men's wrong, sir, Yer can easy find blokes as is worse Well, I gets down just 'ere, sir. So long, sir." Aside: "Now let's see what we've got in 'is purse!"
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