86 IRISH HORSEDEALER AND THE WRONG CUSTOMER. 



What ! The horse belonged to you, sor ? 

 An' my statements are not true, sor ? 

 He was bred down here in Wiltshire an' ye know the very 

 farm ? 



Lame behind, and cribs and whistles ? 

 Is not worth a feed of thistles ? 

 Well, ye see, sor, it's this way, sor, now I'll tell ye ; pray be 

 calm. 



Now, my father was a man, sor — ■ 

 Av ye doubt my word, ye can, sor— 



With a janius for invention, an' my mother was the same ; 

 So ye see it's handed down, sor, 

 An' has brought us much renown, sor, 



Like our ancestors before us an' the stock from whence we 

 came. 



Arrah ! now, yer honour's laughing, 

 Faix ! I see you're fond of chaffing, 

 It's the smile that makes us handsome, an' I see ye know 

 the way. 



Well, I'm mighty plazed we've met, sor, 

 It's yourself I'll not forget, sor. 

 Shake my hand; good afternoon, sor, we will deal another 

 day. 



February, 1895. 



