Composed on both barrels of my gun missing fire at a hare, one wet day, on account of my not using waterproof caps.

Yan day when I was rangin’ t’ land,

Wi’ owd “ Black Bess ” cock’d in my hand,

Up starts a thumpin’ hare ;

Then up I browt my gun at yance,

An’ down the barrels I did glance,

An’ on her levell’d fair.

 

I do declare it was too bad —

Enough to mak a fellow mad

For t’ hammers just med snaps :

An’ when unhurt off bounded t’ haar,

I vow’d I wad depend na maar

On common, low-priced caps.

 

When yan hes managed to git near,

’Twad varnear mak a parson sweear,

When snap baath hammers gang ;

An’ t’ game is off i’ rapid flight,

An’ yan hes tried baath left an’ right

An’ cannot raise a bang.

 

It is a sad, mistakken plan,

Of ony spoortin’ shootin’ man,

To use inferior stuff :

For if he low-priced powder buy,

Or caps that nobbut strike when dry,

He’ll rue it, sewer enough.

 

Although his gun’s a blade to kill,

An’ he possess sufficient skill,

I’ll bet ye hauf-a-crown

That he may blaze an’ shoot away,

Fra mornin’ leet to t’ clooas o’ day,

An’ seldom bring owt down.

 

As lang as I a shootin’ gang,

Of Lawrence powder good an’ strang

I’ll allus be possess’d ;

An’ nivver put my trust again

I’ caps that waint stand out i’ t’ rain —

But Eley’s varra best.

 

For if a gun be tried an’ true,

An’ t’ ammunition good an’ new,

An’ t’ charges put in reight —

If it don’t fotch ’em down like fun,

At forty yards, I dar be bun

It’s t’ man ’at can’t shoot streight.