NATIONAL STANDARD PACING HORSE BREEDERS CO. 



We took in the circuit; how it went 

 I never can tell, but the cash was spent; 

 And I turned up in York State one day 

 With pretty near everything fooled away; 

 With the old place mortgaged all 'twould bear, 

 And me with eight hundred and the pacing mare. 



I put it all up — fifteen to one, 

 And got full as usual, before I'd done; 

 And when we scored I got playing smart 

 Till the judges ordered me off the cart, 

 And put up some fellow to drive the mare, 

 I couldn't see who, and I didn't care. 



Well, she won, they marked her twenty-five, 

 And I drew $12,000 as you're alive; 

 Some way or other I shipped her home. 

 And got to the station all alone; 

 Hooked her up and drove to the farm. 

 Drunk yet, I wouldn't know the barn. 



Thirteen miles I put her through, 

 Like any drunken fool might do. 

 Got home after a while somehow. 

 And left the mare as you see her now; 

 She spilled me at the gate kermash, 

 And broke my arm, but I had the cash. 



Just enough to leave me square, 



And it taught me sense, but it spoiled the mare; 



Just fifteen years ago this spring 



I learned the value of this one thing: 



No more whisky and no more spree, 



Pacers are good enough for me; 



Vender's the mare, I've told her tale, 



I'll sell you her colt — but she's not for sale. 



