And how the hunters stood aloof,
Regardful of their lives,
And shunned a beast, whose very horns
They knew could handle knives!
How Huggins stood when he was rubbed
By help and ostler kind,
And when they cleaned the clay before,
How worse “remained behind.”
And one, how he had found a horse
Adrift—a goodly gray!
And kindly rode the nag, for fear
The nag should go astray;
Now Huggins, when he heard the tale,
Jumped up with sudden glee;
THE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON.
“I WISH YOU MAY GET IT.”