’Elped ’im to fettle ’is dog-cart
An’ then I went back to the ’orse.
’E was lyin’ just where I left ’im,
’E ’adn’t turned ’is ’ead—
And I sat down ’an cried like a babby,
For the grand old ’orse was dead.
An’ ’is box ’as been standin’ empty
Since ’e ran that last long race,
’Cause there isn’t a ’orse in the world, sir,
As is worthy to take ’is place.”