74 FOUR-IN-HAND. 



penned in my idle moments, and once 

 had the honour of singing before a 

 crowded audience, will give some idea of 

 what the four-in-hand was : 



SONG. 



(Tune, the " Trotting Horse.") 



I DRIVE the four best spicy prads of any out of town ; 

 Well matched for size and colour too, and where's the man 



to frown ? 



Their heads all up, they step along, at such a splendid rate, 

 The pride of all the gazing throng, the envy of the great. 

 When I push along, dash along, there's none so good as they, 

 All England can't produce their match, I'll bet you, play 



or pay. 



Near thorough-bred, their action's tike four rowers in a boat, 

 So true their step, so fast their pace, so shining every coat ; 

 A pack-thread string will hold them all, so temperate and 



kind; 

 And if you only drop your hand, why they'll outstrip the 



wind. As I push along, &c. 



Dark chestnuts of the rarest stamp, their like was never seen ; 

 All young and sound,from mane to tail no blemishes between; 

 Their harness neat, and polished bright ; and then the 



varmint drag, 



Who would not boast of such a team,of such a turn-out brag ? 



When I push along, &c. 



Now, when all the swells, on Darby-day, to Epsom hurry 



down, 

 And vie in every style of drag, who most can come it brown ; 



