Air--Three Fishers Went Sailing. Poem by Horace Smith

Three attorneys came sailing down Chancery Lane,
Down Chancery Lane e'er the courts had sat;
They thought of the leaders they ought to retain,
But the Junior Bar, oh, they thought not of that;
For serjeants get work and Q.C.'s too,
And solicitors' sons-in-law frequently do,
While the Junior Bar is moaning.

Three juniors sat up in Crown Office Row,
In Crown Office Row e'er the courts had sat,
They saw the solicitors passing below,
And the briefs that were rolled up so tidy and fat,
For serjeants get work, etc.

Three briefs were delivered to Jones, Q.C,
To Jones, Q.C., e'er the courts had sat;
And the juniors weeping, and wringing their paws,
Remarked that their business seemed uncommon flat;
For Serjeants get work and Q.C.'s too,
But as for the rest it's a regular 'do,'
And the Junior Bar is moaning.