HUNTING SONGS 



Away, alive and kicking, to the distant mountain 



sped ; — 

 Though de'il a bit the deer was hit, the deal-cutter 



was dead. 



IV 



His skull was crack'd, his only wage that day was 



half-a-crown, 

 He was cutting up a billet when the bullet cut him 



down ; 

 Many thousand feet of timber had that Sawyer rent 



in twain, 

 Now himself was split asunder, very much against 



the grain. 



V 



We needed not the Sexton with his pickaxe and his 



spade, 

 In the sawpit which himself had dug his grave was 



ready made ; 

 Top Sawyer though he had been, to the bottom he 



was thrust, 

 And we binn'd him like a bottle of old Sherry in 



sawdust. 



VI 



Full many a railway sleeper had he made since peep 



of day. 

 Ere night himself a sleeper in his narrow bed he 



lay; 

 No tear-drop unavailingly wc shed upon the spot, 

 But we sprinkled him with whisky to preserve him 



from dry rot. 



56 



