The township had three in, and each looked like winning.
The cunning boys smiled when you asked what they knew;
I'd have sooner been resting than stripping and breasting
The mark for the honour of old Waitahu.
But the chaps that were with me would take no denial—
I used to run once and could do it to-day;
It was no use complaining I wasn't in training,
I was hard from the hills and could show them the way.
So they said; but the other blokes smiled at my chances,
Well they might when I hadn't run for a year;
I heard someone mutter, "He's softer than butter—
He used to win once, but he won't finish here."
That made me feel foolish, I wished I'd been training,
I felt if I had I could make someone spin,
But still I was thinking, "I'll finish like winking;
Though there isn't a ghost of a chance I can win!"
We all toed the line, but I wasn't excited,
I fancied the race was all over for Dan;
The slowest could do me—the pistol went through me,
I jumped from the scratch, and the tussle began.
I'd a yard at the start, but I lost it next moment,
My word, they went off at a terrible bat;
I saw in a minute I wouldn't be in it
If Wilson and Barry kept moving like that.
They went for a quarter, then Pearce, of the township,
Ran up to the lead like a young cannon ball;
I kept well behind them, I reckoned to find them
About the three-quarters, or else not at all.
Second round the same order, Mackay creeping closer,
And Pearce, of the township, dropped out at the bend;
They kept the pace going, but Wilson was blowing,
I didn't expect to see him at the end.
Third round, and, by George, I was closing upon them,
My long steady swing was beginning to tell;
Mackay took the running—he'd played pretty cunning—
I caught my first man at the three-quarter bell.
Then I let myself out and I tackled another,
Passed him quickly and got up to Wilson at last;
There was nothing left in him that once looked like winning;
He gave up the struggle the moment I passed.