Poem by Andrew Barton Paterson

The Protest

I say ’e isn’t Remorse! 
’Ow do I know? 
Saw ’im on Riccarton course 
Two year ago! 
Think I’d forget any ’orse? 
Course ’e’s The Crow! 
Bumper Maginnis and I 
After a ”go”, 
Walkin’ our ’orses to dry, 
I says ”Hello! 
What’s that old black goin’ by?” 
Bumper says ”Oh! 
That’s an old cuddy of Flanagan’s -- 
Runs as The Crow!” 

Now they make out ’e’s Remorse. 
Well, but I know. 
Soon as I came on the course 
I says ”’Ello! 
’Ere’s the old Crow.” 
Once a man’s seen any ’orse, 
Course ’e must know. 
Sure as there’s wood in this table, 
I say ’e’s The Crow. 

(Cross-examied by the Committee.) 
’Ow do I know the moke 
After one sight? 
S’posin’ you meet a bloke 
Down town at night, 
Wouldn’t you know ’im again when you meet ’im? 
That’s ’im all right! 

What was the brand on ’is ’ide? 
I couldn’t say, 
Brands can be transmogrified. 
That ain’t the way -- 
It’s the look of a ’orse and the way that ’e moves 
That I’d know any day. 

What was the boy on ’is back? 
Why, ’e went past 
All of a minute, and off down the track. 
-- ”The ’orse went as fast?” 
True, so ’e did! But my eyes, what a treat! 
’Ow can I notice the ’ands and the seat 
Of each bumble-faced kid of a boy that I meet? 
Lor’! What a question to ast! 
(Protest Dismissed)

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

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