_Course_ 'e's The Crow!

b.u.mper Maginnis and I, After a "go", Walkin' our 'orses to dry, I says, "h.e.l.lo!

What's that old black goin' by?"

b.u.mper says "Oh!

That's an old cuddy of Flanagan's-- Runs as The Crow!"

Now they make out 'e's Remorse.

Well, but I _know_.

Soon as I came on the course I says "'Ello!

'Ere's the old Crow."

Once a man's seen any 'orse, 'Course 'e must know.

Sure as there's wood in this table, I say 'e's The Crow.

(Cross-examined by the Committee.)

'Ow do I know the moke After one sight?

S'posin' you met a bloke Down town at night, Wouldn't you know 'im again when you met 'im?

That's '_I'm_ all right!

What was the brand on 'is 'ide?

_I_ couldn't say, Brands can be transmogrified.

That ain't the way-- It's the _look_ of a 'orse and the way that 'e moves That I'd know any day.

What was the boy on 'is back?

Why, 'e went past All of a minute, and off down the track.

--"The 'orse went as fast?"

True, so 'e did! But, my eyes, what a treat!

'Ow can I notice the 'ands and the seat Of each b.u.mble-faced kid of a boy that I meet?

Lor'! What a question to ast!

(Protest dismissed.)

The Scapegoat

We have all of us read how the Israelites fled From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em, And Pharaoh's fierce troop were all put "in the soup"

When the water rolled softly o'er every galoot of 'em.

The Jews were so glad when old Pharaoh was "had"

That they sounded their timbrels and capered like mad.

You see he was hated from Jordan to Cairo-- Whence comes the expression "to buck against faro".

For forty long years, 'midst perils and fears In deserts with never a tramline to follow by, The Israelite horde went roaming abroad Like so many sundowners out on the wallaby.

When Moses, who led 'em, and taught 'em, and fed 'em, Was dying, he murmured "A rorty old hoss you are: I give you command of the whole of the band"-- And handed the Government over to Joshua.

But Moses told 'em before he died, "Wherever you are, whatever betide, Every year as the time draws near By lot or by rote choose you a goat, And let the high priest confess on the beast The sins of the people, the worst and the least.

Lay your sins on the goat! Sure the plan ought to suit yer, Because all your sins are "his troubles" in future.

Then lead him away to the wilderness black To die with the weight of your sins on his back: Of thirst let him perish alone and unshriven, For thus shall your sins be absolved and forgiven!"

'Tis needless to say, though it reeked of barbarity, This scapegoat arrangement gained great popularity.

By this means a Jew, whate'er he might do, Though he burgled, or murdered, or cheated at loo, Or meat on Good Friday (a sin most terrific) ate, Could get his discharge, like a bankrupt's certificate.

(Just here let us note--_DID THEY CHOOSE THEIR BEST GOAT?_ It's food for conjecture; to judge from the picture By Hunt in the Gallery close to our door, a Man well might suppose that the scapegoat they chose Was a long way from being their choicest Angora.

In fact I should think he was one of their weediest; 'Tis a rule that obtains, no matter who reigns, When making a sacrifice, offer the seediest; Which accounts for a theory known to my hearers Who live in the wild by the wattle beguiled, That a "stag" makes quite good enough mutton for shearers.) Be that as it may, as each year pa.s.sed away, A scapegoat was led to the desert and freighted With sin (the poor brute must have been overweighted) And left there--to die as his fancy dictated.

The day it has come; with trumpet and drum, With pomp and solemnity fit for the tomb, They led the old billy-goat off to his doom: On every hand a reverend band, Prophets and preachers and elders stand And the oldest rab_bi_, with a tear in his eye, Delivers a sermon to all standing by.

(We haven't his name--whether Cohen or Harris, he No doubt was the "poisonest" kind of a Pharisee.) The sermon was marked by a deal of humility And pointed the fact, with no end of ability, That being a Gentile's no mark of gentility, And, according to Samuel, would certainly d--n you well.

Then, shedding his coat, he approaches the goat And, while a red fillet he carefully pins on him, Confesses the whole of the Israelites' sins on him.

With this eloquent burst he exhorts the accurst-- "Go forth in the desert and perish in woe, The sins of the people are whiter than snow!"

Then signs to his pal for to let the brute go.

The animal, freed from all restraint Lowered his head, made a kind of a feint, And charged straight at that elderly saint.

So fierce his attack, and so very severe, it Quite floored the Rabbi, who, ere he could fly, Was rammed on the--no, not the back--but just near it.

The scapegoat he snorted, and wildly cavorted, A light-hearted antelope "out on the ramp", Then stopped, looked around, got the "lay of the ground", And made a bee-line back again to the camp.

The elderly priest, as he noticed the beast So gallantly making his way to the East, Says he: "From the tents may I never more roam again If that there old billy-goat ain't going home again.

He's hurrying, too! This never will do.

Can't somebody stop him? I'm all of a stew.

After all our confessions, so openly granted, He's taking our sins back to where they're not wanted.

We've come all this distance salvation to win agog, If he takes home our sins--it'll burst up the Synagogue!"

He turned to an Acolyte making his bacca light, A fleet-footed youth who could run like a crack o' light.

"Run, Abraham, run! Hunt him over the plain, And drive back the brute to the desert again.

The Sphinx is a-watching, the Pyramids frown on you, From those granite tops forty cent'ries look down on you-- Run, Abraham, run! I'll bet half-a-crown on you."

So Abraham ran; like a man did he go for him, But the goat made it clear each time he drew near That he had what the racing men call "too much toe" for him.

The crowd with great eagerness studied the race-- "Great Scott! isn't Abraham forcing the pace-- And don't the goat spiel? It is hard to keep sight on him, The sins of the Israelites ride mighty light on him.

The scapegoat is leading a furlong or more, And Abraham's tiring--I'll lay six to four!

He rolls in his stride; he's done, there's no question!"

But here the old Rabbi brought up a suggestion.

('Twas strange that in racing he showed so much cunning), "It's a hard race," said he, "and I think it would be A good thing for someone to take up the running."

As soon said as done, they started to run-- The priests and the deacons, strong runners and weak 'uns All reckoned ere long to come up with the brute, And so the whole boiling set off in pursuit.

And then it came out, as the rabble and rout Streamed over the desert with many a shout-- The Rabbi so elderly, grave, and patrician, Had been in his hot youth a bold metallician, And offered, in gasps, as they merrily spieled, "Any price Abraham! Evens the field!"

Alas! the whole clan, they raced and they ran, And Abraham proved him an "even-time" man, But the goat, now a speck they could scarce keep their eyes on, Stretched out in his stride in a style most surprisin'

And vanished ere long o'er the distant horizon.

Away in the camp the bill-sticker's tramp Is heard as he wanders with paste, brush, and notices, And paling and wall he plasters them all, "I wonder how's things gettin' on with the goat," he says, Then pulls out his bills, "Use Solomon's Pills": "Great Stoning of Christians! To all devout Jews! you all Must each bring a stone--Great sport will be shown; Enormous Attractions! And prices as usual!

Roll up to the Hall!! Wives, children, and all, For naught the most delicate feelings to hurt is meant!"

Here his eyes opened wide, for close by his side Was the scapegoat devouring the latest advertis.e.m.e.nt!

One shriek from him burst--"You creature accurst!"

And he ran from the spot like one fearing the worst.

His language was chaste, as he fled in his haste, But the goat stayed behind him--and "scoffed up" the paste.

With downcast head, and sorrowful tread, The people came back from the desert in dread.