Old Ricky the Ratter.
Old Ricky was a terrier, as faithful as could be, He'd curl up in a little ball comfy on my knee. But outside that little terrier was a different boy, no longer was he a lap dog, cos hunting was his joy. His eyes would blaze his coat would stand, the most terrifying terrier in the land. Those bulging eyes, those twitching ears, a front paw off the ground. Head stuck forward, shackles up; he knows they are around. Ratty is hiding in long grass, Ricky knows he's there. Like a cobra, Ricky strikes, the rat squeals out in fear. That ones dead, more to kill; they scamper all around. Ricky kills a few more rats before they go to ground. Sometimes I'd strike out with my stick; just to give a hand, Ricky and me, I'm sure you'll see, were the best ratters in the land. I sit alone no little dog curled up on my lap, My stick is hanging on the door along with my old cap. I miss Old Ricky, that little dog, as faithful as could be. now he's buried in the