ed-up mobs like that that makes men cut their throats.
I've travelled rams, which Lord forget, but never travelled goats.

But Jacob knew the ways of stock, for (so the story goes)
When battling through the Philistines--selectors, I suppose--
He thought he'd have to fight his way, an awkward sort of job;
So what did Old Man Jacob do? of course, he split the mob.

He sent the strong stock on ahead to battle out the way;
He couldn't hurry lambing ewes--no more you could to-day--
And down the road, from run to run, his hand 'gainst every hand,
He moved that mighty mob of stock across the Overland.

The thing is made so clear and plain, so solid in and out,
There isn't any room at all for any kind of doubt.
It's just a plain straightforward tale--a tale that lets you know
The way they lived in Palestine three thousand years ago.

It's strange to read it all to-day, the shifting of the stock;
You'd think you see the caravans that loaf behind the flock,
The little donkeys and the mules, the sheep that slowly spread,
And maybe Dan or Naphthali a-ridin' on ahead.

The long, dry, dusty summer days, the smouldering fires at night;
The stir and bustle of the camp at break of morning light;
The little kids that skipped about, the camels' dead-slow tramp--
I wish I'd done a week or two in Old Man Jacob's camp!

_But if I keep the narrer path, some day, perhaps, I'll know
How Jacob bred them strawberry calves three thousand years ago._

The Reverend Mullineux

I'd reckon his weight at eight-stun-eight,
And his height at five-foot-two,
With a face as plain as an eight-day clock
And a walk as brisk as a bantam-cock--
Game as a bantam, too,
Hard and wiry and full of steam,
That's the boss of the English Team,
Reverend Mullineux.

Makes no row when the game gets rough--
None of your "Strike me blue!"
"You's wants smacking across the snout!"
Plays like a gentleman out-and-out--
Same as he ought to do.
"Kindly remove from off my face!"
That's the way that he states his case--
Reverend Mullineux.

Kick! He can kick like an army mule--
Run like a kangaroo!
Hard to get by as a lawyer-plant,
Tackles his man like a bull-dog ant--
Fetches him over too!
_Didn't_ the public cheer and shout
Watchin' him chuckin' big blokes about--
Reverend Mullineux.

Scrimmage was packed on his prostrate form,
Somehow the b