And put all your heart in your work.
So here's to the Spider, the winning outsider,
With little Jo Chauncy up;
May they stay life's course, both jockey and horse,
As they stayed in the Farnshire Cup.

But it's possible that you are wondering what
May have happened to Farmer Brown,
And the old gray crock of Isonomy stock
Who was backed by the sharps from town.
She blew and she sneezed, she coughed and she wheezed,
She ran till her knees gave way.
But never a grumble at trip or at stumble
Was heard from her jock that day.

For somebody laid AGAINST the gray,
And somebody made a pile;
And Brown says he can make farming pay,
And he smiles a simple smile.
'Them sharps from town were riled,' says Brown;
'But I can't see why--can you?
For I said quite fair as I knew that mare,
And I proved my words was true.'



THE GROOM'S STORY