SEA SPRAY &> SMOKE DRIFT 



He's a good bit of stuff, but not quite good 



enough, 

 ** JVon licuit credere f ameer 



Alfred ought to be there, we all of us swear 

 By the blood of King Alfred, his sire, 



He's not the real jam, by the blood of his 

 dam, 

 So I shan't put him down as a flyer. 



Now, Hynam, my boy, I wish you great joy, 

 I know that when fresh you can jump, sir ; 



But you'll scarce be in clover when you're 

 ridden all over, 

 And punish't from shoulder to rump, sir. 



Archer goes like a shot, they can put on their 

 pot. 



And boil it to cover expenses ; 

 Their pot will boil over, the run of his Dover 



He'll never earn over big fences. 



There's a horse in the race, with a blaze on 



his face, 



And we know he can gallop a docker, 



126 



