Bite him! I do believe, indeed,
It's in his very blood and breed!
It marks his life, and, run all through it;
What can be miss'd, he's sure to do it.
Last Monday he came home to Tooting,
Dog-tir'd, as if he'd been a-shooting,
And kicks at me to vent his rage—
'Get out!' says he—'I've miss'd the stage!'
Of course, thought I—what chance of hitting?
You'd miss the Norwich wagon, sitting!"