The Merry Sportsmen
‘Arry an’ me is bits of sports;
When the summer comes around
We gits our sweaters an’ guns an’ shorts
An’ we seeks out 'untin’ ground.
Tennis an’ 'ikin’ we reckons tame;
So we shuns the cissy push
An’ goes in more for a 'e-man sport
Shootin’, out in the bush.
Week-end ‘fore last we ’ad some fun
Close up to a record day;
For a real good bag fell to each gun
Pea-rific, that’s to say.
But the gem of it all was that darn fool bird
I got while 'e’s 'avin’ a barf
At the edge of a pool. ‘E looked absurd.
Chee! ’Arry an’ me did larf!
By lunch I’d potted a decent bag:
Three parrots, a thrush an’ a jack,
An’ 'Arry, two wrens an’ a lark an’ a mag.
Then we camps at a creek near the track;
When up comes a coot in a rig absurd
Wot talks like some bug-'untin’ fool.
But ‘Arry sez, ’Ist!' An’ ‘e points to a bird
Wot is ’avin’ a barf at a pool.
‘Wot a charmin’ pitcher!' this strange bloke said,
But I ups with me gun in a jiff
An’, jist as the dicky-bird’s duckin’ ‘is ’ead,
I skittles the beggar stiff.
Well, you should 'a’ seen 'ow this strange bloke gapes:
Lip like a motherless colt.
An’ eyes stickin’ out like a couple o’ grapes.
Chee! 'Arry an’ me did larf!
‘E goggles a bit, then ’e goes orf pop,
But we’re two to 'is one, so we smiles.
Then he threatens to give us in charge to a cop.
Fat chance! There ain’t one in miles!
Red robin it was. If you only ‘ad seen!
Real trustful-like, ’avin’ 'is barf,
When - Plunk! An’ 'is blood spurts over the green.
Chee! Arry an’ me did larf!
I can’t stop larfin’ whenever I think
Of that comedy there by the creek.
Singin’ robin 'e was with a breast all pink.
(We are goin’ again nex’ week.)
There 'e was, splashin’ all over the place,
When I darn near blows ‘im in ’arf.
An’ if you’d saw the look on that strange cove’s face!
Chee! 'Arry an’ me did larf!
