S.D. Harriers!
I love 'em, each supple-shanked lad,
'Most as much as--Statistics. To trudge it
For _them_ makes my bosom as glad
As--Big Surplus, and Popular Budget;
And so I should like to secure them a run,
Combining snug safety with plenty of fun.
I don't wont to lessen their speed,
I don't want to hamper their daring;
But rashness won't always succeed--
Just ask that smart runner, young B-R-NG!
And that's why I'm trying to strike a new line
For our Paper-Chase--catting the "Paper" up fine.
I scatter it wide. Will it float?
Of course for awhile there's no knowing;
But I shall be able to note,
By the sequel, _which way the wind's blowing_.
There! Look like white-birds, or banknotes, in full flight.
Now, lads, double up! There's not one yet in sight!
Of course I'm ahead of my field,
As a Hare worth his salt ever should be.
My Hounds, though, are mostly spring-heeled.
Eh? Funk it? I don't think that could be!
The L.S.D. Harriers' lick others hollow
For pluck and for pace.
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