Page:Soldier poets, songs of the fighting men, 1916.djvu/39

Rh Again I ran my speedy horse;—

A native jockey comes across,

And knocks me clean from off my pins,

And smiles, and gallops on and wins

The "Mountain Plate" Mussourie.

We all objected—but, of course,

When judges back the winning horse

The horse that finished winner, wins—

And that is when the fun begins

In racing at Mussourie.

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