Page:Ballads·of·Bung•E·Iveagh·Lord•1921.pdf/6

 A minute, Citizens—I’ll explain— The Bull is talking through his hat, As sure as I stand on this mat. In only tried to prove the time. I wired Fred Tilly—trainer mine— To know how all our horses are, Nova and Bunyan—he’s the star— To instruct him anent their work, So he’d not his duty shirk, To tell him not to have a go Till I put in my good dough.

The Bull gets the wind up,
 * But look, who arrives!

See, right in the picture,
 * Is “Chummy”—

Turn your faces to the west and have a spot with me Kindly fill the glasses up! Boys what are they to be? Disher, beer and soda? Locker yours a stout. Bull, you're drinking whiskey. Better mind what you’re about. Burke a pint of shandy. “Catch,” a pot of beer. Rose, a drop of Crawford’s. Do you keep that here? Motor Smith a brandy. Ryan a glass of ale, Conaghan, sarsaparilla! No wonder you are stale, Tim, a pony bottled. Mine’s a good stiff gin, And one for Bung the Bookie, will you please bring in? All set! The toast I give you, is health, is wealth untold, And now with your kind permission, my story, I'll unfold—

A fly push ran a double—Bung and Tim and Jim— On the October Meeting, you bet that I got in. Sir Henry landed for me, and so did Bluedrift, too. And they paid me over a fiver, and they wondered how I knew. Then they produced another, the Cup and Stewards no less. Twenty pounds to a dollar! Betchyerlife I had a guess. Oratress and Chimera were good enough for me. I got a first and second—and for spite got on the spree, And a bull dog bowled me over, that afternoon in town,