Andrew Barton Paterson (Эндрю Бартон Патерсон)

A Dog’s Mistake

He had drifted in among us as a straw drifts with the tide, 
He was just a wand’ring mongrel from the weary world outside; 
He was not aristocratic, being mostly ribs and hair, 
With a hint of spaniel parents and a touch of native bear. 
He was very poor and humble and content with what he got, 
So we fed him bones and biscuits, till he heartened up a lot; 
Then he growled and grew aggressive, treating orders with disdain, 
Till at last he bit the butcher, which would argue want of brain. 

Now the butcher, noble fellow, was a sport beyond belief, 
And instead of bringing actions he brought half a shin of beef, 
Which he handed on to Fido, who received it as a right 
And removed it to the garden, where he buried it at night. 

’Twas the means of his undoing, for my wife, who’d stood his friend, 
To adopt a slang expression, ”went in off the deepest end”, 
For among the pinks and pansies, the gloxinias and the gorse 
He had made an excavation like a graveyard for a horse. 

Then we held a consultation which decided on his fate: 
’Twas in anger more than sorrow that we led him to the gate, 
And we handed him the beef-bone as provision for the day, 
Then we opened wide the portal and we told him, ”On your way.”

1. The Wargeilah Handicap
2. There’s Another Blessed Horse Fell Down
3. The Maori’s Wool
4. “Shouting” for a Camel
5. The Man Who Was Away

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