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.