Successful Recitations | Page 6

'm in a most amazin'
way.
It was all along o' master; which master 'as the name Of a reg'lar true
blue sportsman, an' always acts the same; But we all 'as weaker
moments, which master 'e 'ad one, An' 'e went and bought a motor-car
when motor-cars begun.
I seed it in the stable yard--it fairly turned me sick-- A greasy, wheezy,
engine as can neither buck nor kick. You've a screw to drive it forard,
and a screw to make it stop, For it was foaled in a smithy stove an' bred
in a blacksmith's shop.
It didn't want no stable, it didn't ask no groom, It didn't need no nothin'
but a bit o' standin' room. Just fill it up with paraffin an' it would go all
day, Which the same should be agin the law if I could 'ave my way.
Well, master took 'is motor-car, an' moted 'ere an' there, A frightenin'
the 'orses an' a poisenin' the air. 'E wore a bloomin' yachtin' cap, but
Lor!--what did 'e know, Excep' that if you turn a screw the thing would
stop or go?
An' then one day it wouldn't go. 'E screwed and screwed again But
somethin' jammed, an' there 'e stuck in the mud of a country lane. It 'urt
'is pride most cruel, but what was 'e to do? So at last 'e bade me fetch a
'orse to pull the motor through.
This was the 'orse we fetched 'im; an' when we reached the car, We
braced 'im tight and proper to the middle of the bar, And buckled up 'is
traces and lashed them to each side, While 'e 'eld 'is 'ead so 'aughtily,
an' looked most dignified.
Not bad tempered, mind you, but kind of pained and vexed, And 'e
seemed to say, "Well, bli' me! wot will they ask me next? I've put up
with some liberties, but this caps all by far, To be assistant engine to a
crocky motor car!"

Well, master, 'e was in the car, a-fiddlin' with the gear, An' the 'orse
was meditatin', an' I was standin' near, When master 'e touched
somethin'--what it was we'll never know-- But it sort o' spurred the
boiler up and made the engine go.
"'Old 'ard, old gal!" says master, and "Gently then!" says I, But an
engine wont 'eed coaxin' an' it ain't no use to try; So first 'e pulled a
lever, an' then 'e turned a screw, But the thing kept crawlin' forrard
spite of all that 'e could do.
And first it went quite slowly, and the 'orse went also slow, But 'e 'ad to
buck up faster when the wheels began to go; For the car kept crowdin'
on 'im and buttin' 'im along, An' in less than 'alf a minute, sir, that 'orse
was goin' strong.
At first 'e walked quite dignified, an' then 'e had to trot, And then 'e
tried to canter when the pace became too 'ot. 'E looked 'is very
'aughtiest, as if 'e didn't mind, And all the time the motor-car was
pushin' 'im be'ind.
Now, master lost 'is 'ead when 'e found 'e couldn't stop, And 'e pulled a
valve or somethin' an' somethin' else went pop, An' somethin' else went
fizzywig, an' in a flash or less, That blessed car was goin' like a limited
express.
Master 'eld the steerin' gear, an' kept the road all right, And away they
whizzed and clattered--my aunt! it was a sight. 'E seemed the finest
draught 'orse as ever lived by far, For all the country Juggins thought
'twas 'im wot pulled the car.
'E was stretchin' like a grey'ound, 'e was goin' all 'e knew, But it
bumped an' shoved be'ind 'im, for all that 'e could do; It butted 'im and
boosted 'im an' spanked 'im on a'ead, Till 'e broke the ten-mile record,
same as I already said.
Ten mile in twenty minutes! 'E done it, sir. That's true. The only time
we ever found what that 'ere 'orse could do. Some say it wasn't 'ardly
fair, and the papers made a fuss, But 'e broke the ten-mile record, and

that's good enough for us.
You see that 'orse's tail, sir? You don't! no more do we, Which really
ain't surprisin', for 'e 'as no tail to see; That engine wore it off 'im before
master made it stop, And all the road was litter'd like a bloomin'
barber's shop.
And master? Well, it cured 'im. 'E altered from that day, And come
back to 'is 'orses in the good old-fashioned way. And if you wants to git
the sack, the quickest way by far, Is to 'int as 'ow you think 'e ought to
keep a motorcar.

THE HARDEST
PART I EVER PLAYED.
BY