Of such a deuced scrubby lot,
No decent fellow 'll go.
Then cads all dress so badly there,
And gentlemen so well,
One can distinguish which is which,
Now here, a man can't tell.
I rode a goodish bit out there;
They pretty much all do;
I always used to keep a back,
And thoroughbred or two.
This pounding along Beacon Street
Is rather slowish fun
Beside an outing on The Row,
Or a cross-country run.
And then this early dining here, -
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