shakes.

_Groom_ (_sharply_). Not too much of it, you HARRY! You are here
to fetch and carry,
And not to pass opinions in the presence of the Vet.
But he _does_ look dicky, Mister; I've tried bolus, I've tried
blister,
But I haven't got him up to his old form by chalks, Sir, _yet_!

_Vet._ (_dubiously_). You're a bit new at the "biz.," lad, and I
tell you what it is, lad,--
These thoroughbreds aren't managed like a dray-horse, don'tcher
know.
They want very careful feeding, and Sangrado purge or bleeding
Won't suit our modern strain--of man _or_ horse. Steady, lad!
Woa! [_Examines him._

_Groom_ (_rather sulkily_). Well, Sir, what do you make it?

_Vet._ Off his feed?

_Groom_. Well, he don't take it.
Not voracious, so to speak, Sir, as he do when cherry ripe.

_Vet._ Ah-h-h! May want a change of diet. Eye is neither bright
_nor_ quiet,
And his coat seems dull and roughish, though he's sound in pulse
and pipe.

_Stable-help_. Don't take kindly to his fodder, and, what _I_
thinks even odder,
With a temper like a hangel, gits a bit inclined to kick.
Landed _'Art Dyke_ a fair wunner!

_Groom_ (_testily_). Well, you are an eighty-tonner
At superfluous patter, HARRY!

_Stable-help_ (_aside_). Lor! _His_ temper's gitting quick!
What has been and popped the acid in his style so prim and placid?
Doesn't shine like what he thought to as head-groom. Yus,
there's the rub!

_Vet._ (_looking at sieve_). Seem to shy _that_ feed!

_Groom_. I mixed it with the greatest care, and
fixed it
With an eye to tempt his appetite, but there, he's off his grub!

_Vet._ (_to Stable-help_). Takes your green stuff better?

_Stable-help_. True, Sir!

_Groom_. But too much o' that won't do,
Sir.
Can't live on tares entirely! (_Aside._) This here boy's too
full of beans.

_Vet._ Ah! I see the whole position. He's a bit out of condition,
Wants a tonic and skilled treatment. Yes, no doubt that's what
it means.
With an appetite that's picksome comes a temper tart and tric
But a pick-me-up--I'll send one--will, I'm sure set all that
square.
And if there's further wasting, then, without too headlong hasting