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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357826" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Cab Horses' Story</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, you wouldn't imagine, to look at me,<br>That I was a racehorse once.<br>I have done my mile in - let me see <br>No matter. I was no dunce.<br>But you'd not believe me if I told<br>Of gallops I did in days of old.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was first in - ah, well! What's the good?<br>It hurts to recall those days<br>When I drew from men, as a proud horse should,<br>Nothing but words of praise:<br>Oh, the waving hats, and the cheering crowd!<br>How could a horse help being proud?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My owner was just as proud as I;<br>I was cuddled and petted and praised.<br>My fame was great and my price was high,<br>And every year 'twas raised.<br>Then I strained a sinew in ninety-nine,<br>And that's when started my swift decline.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was turned to grass for a year or so;<br>Then dragged to an auction sale;<br>And a country sport gave me a go;<br>But how could I hope but fail?<br>'A crock,' said he. And I here began<br>To learn of the ways of cruel man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A year I spent as a lady's hack <br>I was growing old and spent <br>But she said that the riding hurt her back;<br>So we parted; and I went<br>For a while - and it nearly broke my heart <br>Dragging a greasy butcher's cart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then my stifle went. And I, proud horse,<br>Son of the nobly born,<br>The haughty king of a city course,<br>Knew even a butcher's scorn!<br>So down the ladder I quickly ran;<br>Till I came to be owned by a bottle man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And my bed was hard and my food was poor,<br>And my work was harder still<br>Dragging a cart from door to door <br>The slave of Bottle-oh Bill.<br>Till even he, for a few mean bob,<br>Sold me into this hateful job.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I dozed and dreamed in the ranks one day,<br>Thinking of good days past,<br>I heard a voice that I knew cry, 'Hey!<br>Say, cabby, is this horse fast?'<br>And he looked at me in a way I know.<br>'Twas the man I'd loved in the long ago.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas my dear, old master of ninety-nine,<br>And I waited, fair surprised.<br>But ne'er by a look and ne'er by sign<br>Did he show he recognised.<br>Then I heard his words ('twas my last hard knock):<br>'Why don't you pole-axe the poor old crock?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And he turned aside to a low-bred mare<br>That was foaled on some cockie's farm,<br>And he drove away. What do I care?<br>I can come to no more harm.<br>In a knacker's yard I am worth at least<br>Some pence for a hungry lion's feast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357826" data-title="The Cab Horses' Story de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="Now, you wouldn't imagine, to look at me,
That I was a racehorse once.
I have done my mile in - let me see 
No matter. I was no dunce.
But you'd not believe me if I told
Of gallops I did in days of old.

I was first in - ah, well! What's the good?..."></div>
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