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By the cock of his head you can see that he's bred
From the best working strain to be had.
Through the bog, gorse and fern bobs the brief active stern
Of old Mutt of the Ballymacad.
With his yelp of delight this small bundle of white
Says:'I'm out for you, Reynard my lad;
All the hounds you may trick, but it's tougher to lick
Mister Mutt of the Ballymacad.
After four twisted miles, Reynard's world-famous wiles
Were in Vain. Further outlook was bad!
When he thought hounds had checked,
All his cute plans were wrecked
By old Mutt of the Ballymacad.
When the fox sneaked to ground, where no big bodied hound
Could pursue him, he sighed:'Not so bad!
Those hounds haven't me yet. But he seemed to forget
Mister Mutt of the Ballymacad.
Then the field got a jolt, for the fox didn't bolt
And no further good run could be had.
Reynard fought hard and fast: still, he couldn't dash past
Mister Mutt of the Ballymacad.
Fox and terrier there fought it out fair and square,
Further details are gruesome and sad.
but the one who came out with a grin on his snout
Was old Mutt of the Ballymacad.......
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