Page:Songs of the Road Doyle.djvu/50

Rh First prize the broad jump,

First prize the high;

Gold medal, Class A,

You'll see it by-and-by.

I bred the bay horse

On the Withy Farm.

I broke the bay horse,

He broke my arm.

Don't blame the bay horse,

Blame the brittle bone,

I bred him and I've fed him,

And he's all my very own.

Just watch the bay horse

Chock full of sense! Ain't he just beautiful,

Risin' to a fence!