Still struggles, "The Clown by a short neck
at most,"
He swerves, the green scourges, the stand
rocks and surges,
And flashes, and verges, and flits the white
post.
Aye! so ends the tussle,—I knew the tan muzzle
Was first, though the ring-men were yelling
"Dead heat!"
A nose I could swear by, but Clarke said "The