THE CONVERTED CABMAN.
Don’t ‘it your ‘oss ‘is ‘ed across,
But treat him quite contrary,
Best means is fair, I learned that ‘ere
Attendin’ Mr. Rarey.
He, all for love, a lectur’ guv
We eab abd ‘busmen gratis,
And full as true as twice one’s two,
The words as he did state is.
He proved the fact, for bein’ whacked
A ‘oss ‘as no occasion,
Don’t ‘ave recource, he says, to force,
But take and try persuasion.
And there I seed how that agreed
With that vunce wicious Cruiser,
Which, bein’ shown, all coves must own
How wide-awake his views are.
That there tame thing, around the ring,
As playful as a kitten,
All by a strawr I seen him drawr,
And never kicked nor bitten!
Upon the ground, a ‘oss, unbound,
Lay, mild as any weather.
He took his ‘oofs, for further proofs,
And knocked’em both together.
On one’s ‘ind ‘anch, so game and stanch,
I’ll swear I ain’t a ‘ummin’,
A drum he beat, and, no deceit,
That are ‘oss stood the drummin’
A ‘oss ‘as mind, and, next mankind,
Stands foremost in creation,-
Regardin’ which, treat ‘im as sich,
Was Rarey’s observation.
With this ‘ere vhip my ‘oss’s ‘ip
I’ll now touch up no longer,
Upon the rawr; give pain,- what for,
When kindness acts the stronger?
To think what I have learned, my eye,
This blessed January!
Well, here’s success to gentleness,
As taught by Mr. Rarey!
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