Page:The man from Snowy River and other verses.pdf/38

 Three miles in three heats:—Ah, my sonny,
 * The horses in those days were stout,

They had to run well to earn money;
 * I don't see such horses about.

Your six-furlong vermin that scamper
 * Half-a-mile with their feather-weight up;

They wouldn't earn much of their damper
 * In a race like the President's Cup.

The first heat was soon set a-going;
 * The Dancer went off to the front;

The Don on his quarters was showing,
 * With Pardon right out of the hunt,

He rolled and he weltered and wallowed—
 * You'd kick your hat faster, I'll bet;

They finished all bunched and he followed
 * All lathered and dripping with sweat.

But troubles came thicker upon us,
 * For while we were rubbing him dry

The stewards came over to warn us:
 * 'We hear you are running a bye!

'If Pardon don't spiel like tarnation
 * 'And win the next heat—if he can—