Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (1st ed.).djvu/35



"There's one where that dog is; he's shifted; ne'er mind, They'll all be crept into one corner you'll find. Halloo! there's a great un'! Hie Tartar!—good lad; He's got him: look yonder, they're bolting like mad." My soul, there's a scuffle—"Be careful, I begs, You'll have those fork-tines into somebody's legs!" "Look out, Mr. Benton; there's one at your back, On the top of the -hole—just give him a crack." "Mind, mind where you're hitting—there's one up the wall." Oh! I thought it a mouse, by its being so small." "No, no, it's a rat, look; and here are the rest; There's twelve or thirteen of them down in this nest." They are nearing the bottom, each sheaf they displace Yields a rat, which produces a kill, or a race. "Good Tartar!—hie, Nettle!—dead, dead!—Pincher drop it." "There's one up the wall again—Petipher, stop it." "Now, clumsey!—"he's miss'd him!" "Oh! he's safe enough; He's popped through that air hole and into the sough." "Bill Hawkins, run round, lad, and look out a bit, They're certain to make for the or pit."