HUNTING SONGS 



Ye who own patent mangers, where flyers are fed. 

 Which the dealer supplies at three hundred a head. 

 Let a crumb from your stable in charity fall, 

 Give a mount to the man who can fill but one stall. 



'Brother Tom 



A SEQUEL TO THE MAN WITH ONE HUNTER 

 " Ogni medaglia ha il suo riverso " 



RESCUED from suicide, brought back, to life 

 From the depth of despair by a stable and wife. 

 Brother Tom, to whom Hymen had given this lift, 

 Brother Tom of his luck I will tell you the drift. 



That good wife he wedded is gone to her rest. 

 Leaving Tom of her lands and her fortune possest ; 

 But no ticket can life from vexations insure. 

 The rich have their troubles as well as the poor. 



Two sons — on three hunters apiece they insist. 

 Their nights they devote to blind hookey and whist ; 

 Five grown-up daughters besides — Heaven bless 



'em ! — 

 Who can tell what it costs a fond father to dress 'em ? 



For those gowns light as gossamer, widely outspread. 

 When compressed in the bill become items of lead ; 

 And a feather, stuck there, is no more the light thing 

 That it was when first pluck'd from the ostrich's 

 wing. 

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