To count each gasp, to cheer each spurt,
And fill with pride his pate!
He goes on Sunday to the church;
And sits among his pals:
Receiving homage from each youth,
And winking at the gals!
Makes weak attempts to “mash” ’em, and
Criticises their “fal-lals!”
He sleeps—dreams—hears his trainer’s voice
Telling him when to “stick it on!”