His hair is gingery, coarse, and long; His muscles none can span, His brow is wet with honest sweat―― He’s “put in” all he can; He ain’t much to look at in the face, But he’ll ride ’gainst any man! (In the village!) Week after week, morn, noon, and night, You could see him rushing round The cricket-field the club had hired For an impromptu training-ground; You could hear his back wheel clump and clatter, Although with wire bound! The loafers and cadgers of the place: Crowd round the open gate: They love to watch him wheeling round Like some pursuing Fate; To count each gasp, to cheer each spurt, And fill with pride his pate! He goes on Sunday to the church; And sits among his pals: Receiving homage from each youth, And winking at the gals! Makes weak attempts to “mash” ’em, and Criticises their “fal-lals!” He sleeps――dreams――hears his trainer’s voice Telling him when to “stick it on!” Remembers that he’ll ride no more When the cold earth lays his chest upon! Waking, he checks a deep, loud snore, And finds his “mashes” homeward gone! Training――perspiring――grinding: Onward through life he goes―― Each evening sees a mile begun, 2m. 50s. sees it close! Something attempted, something done, Has gained a broken nose! Experience by thee, my friend: Thy chums, they have been taught, Hadst thou been doomèd _nées_ to ride As reckless fellows ought Then had thy Roman nose escaped Much evil thou hast wrought! R. C. BLOW. _The Wheeling Annual_ for 1885. [Illustration] _Finis_ (Beeton’s Annual, 1877) contained a long parody on “Evangeline,” from which the following lines may be quoted:―― MABEL, THE MADE-UP.