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Punch Up At 'Dart Man's Aim'

Fifteen stone and just five foot eight
And yet he doesn't seem overweight
Deep, deep chest and shoulders wide
The strongest in this countryside.

He's the mighty Dan the frog
From the house beside the bog
Swarthy looking with raven hair
A happy man without a care.

He's no plans to take a wife
As he prefers the single life
And he's still a young man anyway
Just twenty five on his last birthday

Froggy is his dad's nickname
And that's from where the name frog came
But his nickname of frog he doesn't appreciate
In fact the word called frog he's grown to hate.

Fastest man for miles around
To part with the green back pound
In him you'll find nothing cheap
Money he can't seem to keep.

He's a happy sort of bloke
Happy even when he's broke
He's got the right mentality
Never down, always carefree.

Likes his guinness doesn't like beer
Drinks his liquor with good cheer,
Whiskey makes the man walk tall
And he likes whiskey best of all.

He is merciful though strong
And without good reason won't do wrong
But do him wrong and he will fight
And with his fists he'll put things right.

He'd prefer to crack your jaw
Than chastise you with the law
Solves his problems like a man
That's the way it is with Dan.

And though when need arise he can be hard
Dan the frog is no blaghguard
But his type you don't kick around
As men like him do not yield ground

Last sunday night at a poker game
In the pub 'The Dart man's aim'
Dan drank his pint put glass away
And joined with three others to play.

Poker is a game of bluff
And those who play it know their stuff
It depends on the cards you get
As on bad cards one cannot bet.

Money can be lost or won
Fast as any hare can run
And there's no room for a mistake
As it's a game of make or break

And Dan the frog though hard is fair
The ideal type of poker player,
He knows how much his cards are worth
And on good cards would bet his shirt.

At Dan's left sat Bill Carew
A drinking man and a gambler too
From beer to cards and cards to beer
That's how he's lived for forty years.

And at centre table sat Jim Ray
A quiet man with few words to say
A poker player next to none
And of late he's on a lucky run.

And at Dan's right sat Bulldog Kane
The bully boy from Privet lane
Twenty four years and six foot four
And weighing sixteen stone or more.

His size makes him one to fear
And when he's drunk of him stay clear
At such times he's one to avoid
As on his great strength he takes pride.

He's the roughest man in town
And from a challenge won't climb down
And those who challenged him before
Felt sorry later and quite sore

In the earlier games the Frog was losing
And Bulldog found all of this amusing
From ear to ear big Kane was grinning
As well he may for he was winning.

Carew and Ray were holding steady
And for their turn of luck were ready,
They were breaking even, not so bad
And still had plenty in the wad.

Near ten o clock the climax came
And this was to be the vital game
All four had good cards rose the pool
And the winner take all is the rule.

With five hundred pounds there for the taking
Hearts were trembling and hands shaking
And the curious onlookers standing around that table
For to keep their silence were scarce able.

Carew and Ray threw their hands in
Their cards not good enough to win
And Dan the Frog called to see Kane
And his blue was winner that was plain.

The Frog he gathered up his winnings
And Bulldog Kane was not now grinning
A bad loser his temper rising
Which after all is not surprising.

He accused Dan the Frog of cheating
And promised him a right good beating
But Dan roared back don't accuse me
Of cheating or dishonesty.

'Twas word for word and tempers rose
And 'twas plain all this would end in blows
And Bulldog Kane was first to draw
A big right hook to the Frog's jaw.

It seemed he'd fall he staggered back
His eyes glazed from the hefty smack,
From the mouth he bled he'd lost two teeth
But still he held firm on his feet.

The onlookers seemed surprised that he did not fall
His back against the bar room wall
And Kane moved in for the K.O.
But Dan avoided his next blow.

Dan punched the Bulldog in the eye
Which fairly stunned the bully boy
And blood began to freely flow
From a cut above his left eyebrow.

All serene souls left that bar room quick
The sight of blood make their type sick
And they'd seen enough of blood in there
And for their last drinks went elsewhere.

And others came in from the street
To watch for them 'a special treat'
They had heard about the punching war
That was taking place in Dart man's aim bar.

It was punch for punch and blow for blow
As they slugged it out fair toe to toe
And though Dan the Frog was well on top
Bulldog kept fighting and he wouldn't stop.

Then the bar room owner Jim McNiece
Told his wife Kate 'ring for Police'
And four Policemen came and broke up the fight
And to Dart man's restored peace and quiet.

And they looked a sorry sight the boys
With swollen lips and swollen eyes
And Kane whose face was black and blue
Looked the more battered of the two.

But in bar brawls is there second best?
As they both were placed under arrest
And they face the judge the next court day
And the law will have the final say.

And Bulldog Kane and Dan the Frog
His real name Dan Ryan from by the bog
Are awaiting trial and out on bail
Will it be bound to the peace or jail?

And for Dan there's widespread sympathy
As he's not a bad type all agree
He's not the sort who'd start a row
But his main fault is that he won't bow.

But there's litle sympathy for Kane
The bully boy from Privet Lane
And the news was received with delight
That he was bested in the fight.

But the judge he will have different views
As it matter nought to him who win or lose
And 'twill matter nought to him who drew first blow
As 'tis by the book of law he'll go.

And in the eyes of the law they are both to blame
And the judge will treat them both the same
As it's only licensed boxers have the right
In a roped in arena to fight.

And drinking man you've got a lesson here
On your night out enjoy your beer
But from involvement in brawls do resist
As wise men don't solve things with their fist.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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