Chronicle Lays

Horowhenua Chronicle, 4 January 1917, Page 3

Chronicle Lays

NO. I.—"TiHE ARMSTRONG DUO." A TALE OF THE TURF. - I was Tiding a stumer to older; Jly prad was a demon to last; I reefed at his head and I wished for more lead, As right to the front he went fast. There was me and a chestnut from 'Naki, Tho only fast two in the ride; The others were slow as Otaki, And couldn't get warm when they tried. A fuailong from home the big chestnut Game at me, and wasn't I "dead" ; I tugged on my rein till the martin 'and chain Were rattling like horses unfed. "Go on lad, and win it," I grunted; But how did I feel when he yelled, "iNot me, Johnny Rawl I've a reef on his jawl" So I glanced at the offing and said: "Them blighters back there'll never foot it; "It's me on - ite you for the dibs; "If 'I' land hojne first I'll be meat for the hearse, " "Well, I'm just the same," sez his .nibs; We were galloping shoulder to shonl- f der— His elbows were crowding his bread; I saw it was hard work to hold her: "Go on, or I'll dot you," I said. "You dot me?" yelled Armstrong the Second l ; "Pall up, and I'll soon settle you I" But while this went on we were bom-l-ing along And very nearly landing the glue. A "stipe" in the straight standing hand I spic?: uv» both lube.- tiv> sf-rk I And hard oi our j ©abb ear we Icftl. innu; i to get 1) er And piills on one rein—r.n ••i.-l •brio-fr. i . i He bumps .me. and liuno ' l)is~fwr» dandies— The horses grants ready to burst. "Well strike me serene! that's a dandy in green," He cries; it's our protest, at Worst. And while wo were strait'ndng our mounts up, And "sparring for wind," ae' )they say; Three legs and a swinger that raced as Aldinger Gets past us and landed the hay. Get in with a protest, cries Willie; Alf, Alick and punters galoire. "Alyi" boss says "jS t ol protests is silly; Put up with a beating, though sorel" Hie other prad's owner thought ditto; Ten mugs drew their dividends great; rwo Armstrongs got off with a caution And I still had any name "on the slate." BELSHAZZAR BINKS, Levin, Januairy, 1917.