DEWING AS I POUND IT. 



THE OLD TIMES. 



Some people delight in the sport of the turf 



Whilst others love only the chase, 

 But to me the delight of all others is 



A coach that can go the pace; 

 There are some, too, for whom the sea has its charms 



And who sing of it night and mom ; 

 But give me a coach with its rattling bars, 



And a guard who can blow his horn. 



How the girls all doat on the sight of a coach, 



And the dragsman's curly locks, 

 As he rattles along ^A^th eleven and four 



And a petticoat on the box. 

 His box is his home, his team his one pride, 



And he ne'er looks downcast or forlorn ; 

 And he lists to the musical sound of the bars 



And a blast on the old Mail Horn. 



—Old Coaching Song. 



