HUNTING SONGS 



IV 



" A pratty soight o' laming you have pil'd up of a 



ruck ; 

 The only name it went by in my feyther's time was 



muck ; 

 I knows not how that tool you calls a nollysis may 



work ; 

 I turns it, when it's rotten, pretty handy wi' a fork." 



V 



" A famous pen of Cotswolds ! Pass your hand 



along the back — 

 Fleeces fit for stuffing the Lord Chancellor's woolsack ! 

 For premiums e'en Inquisitor would own these 



wethers are fit ; 

 If you want to purchase good 'uns you must go to 



Mr. Garfit. 



VI 



" Two bulls first-rate, of different breeds — the judges 



all protest 

 Both are so super-excellent, they know not which is 



best ; 

 Fair, could he see this Ayrshire, would with jealousy 



be ril'd, 

 That hairy one's a Welshman, and was bred by Mr. 



Wild." 



VII 



" Well, well, that little hairy bull he shanna be so bad ; 

 But what be yonder beast I hear a-bellowing like 

 mad, 



I ID 



