The wise duck shook a tail across the pool,
The blacksmith's shanty smelt of burning paint,
Four newly-tired cartwheels hung to cool.
He had loved the place when under Anna's rule.
Now he clenched teeth and flung aside the gate,
There at the door they stood. He grinned. 'Now wait.'
Ern had just brought her in a wired hare,
She stood beside him stroking down the fur.
'Oh, Ern, poor thing, look how its eyes do stare,'
'It isn't it,' he answered. 'It's a her.'