Hogg and Foster's Race
air- Kiss me quick

Tuther Saturday neet aw saw a grand foot race,
Alang at the Victoria grund,
Between tout Foster and Joe Hogg,
And the stake was fifty pund;
Thor was lots of cheps gettin on their bets,
Thor was little odds on Tout.
The cabs wor stannin at the gate,
Aw saw Joe Hogg luik oot:--

Chorus:
An' aw says Gan on, Joe, maw canny lad,
Thou hes a cliver style,
Ye'll lick the Tout, withoot a doot,
This quarter of a mile.

The gate was opened--and sic a rush,
Thor wes hundreds flockin in,
An' Jimmy Reay amang the crood,
Says--HOGGY'S  sure ti win,
Hoo can he loss? says Jimmy Dodds--
The Ship will float the neet!
Says Markey Hall--we'll hav a rare blaw oot,
Wi' tripe nad haggish meat.

The first iver HOGGY  ran,
It was wi' one the name o'  GILLY,
 up at the Grapes for five aside,
His backers drove him silly;
and aw mind he won a handicap,
And a hurdle race likewise;
and at the Easter wrestlin last year.
He pull'd off the first prize.

He lick'd one o' the name o' MILLER  twice,
And PHILLIPSON  in Newcassel!
And a deed heat he ran GEORDY WILDBORE.
Noo he there thor eyes did dazzel:
the here's success ti Hogg, Rowan and White,
And Belley tee likewise,
Frae ten miles tiv a quartere,
Gateshead can all the world surprise.

Noo HOGGY  had a trainer bould,
Tom Morvel was his nyem,
They tuik their breethins at Primrose Hill,
On the Friday need cam hyem;
Man, Joe he luik'd vary fit,
He seem'd ti be runnin fast,
And when he won, their Neddy sung--
Joe, we've put it on at last.
-Geordie Ridley