HUNTING SONGS 



II 



Let the tinker ride his kettle, 



Let the tailor ride his goose. 

 How can hounds to hunting settle 



With the like o' them let loose ? 

 What's the use on't when he scrambles 



Through a run that butchers tit ? 

 Butcher'd foxhounds for the shambles 



They be neither fat nor fit. 



Ill 



What's the use o' jockies thumping 



Wi' their 'andwhips bits of blood ? 

 Tits by instinct shy of jumping. 



For they could not if they would ; 

 Though the snob, who cannot guide her. 



Mounts the mare as draws his trap ; 

 'Taint the red coat makes the rider. 



Leathers, boots, nor yet the cap. 



IV 



They who come their coats to show, they 



Better were at home in bed ; 

 What of hounds and hunting know they ? 



Nothing else but " go ahead " ; 

 At the Kennel I could train 'em. 



If they would but come to school, 

 Two and two in couples chain 'em. 



Feed on meal, and keep 'em cool. 

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