APPENDIX. 353 



But Sir Henry's brow was knit, 



Darkly he eyed tlie crowd, 

 And darkly looked he at his hounds 



As he whispered half aloud, 

 " Those thrusters will be on their backs 



Before they're well away, 

 Then if there's not a burning scent. 



What chance of sport to-day ?" 



And plainly, as the field moves off 



In a still lengthening line. 

 Now might MacAdam note the names 



Destined in print to shine. 

 There, forging slyly to the front. 



Ball on his grey, was seen, 

 And Charley famed for skill to wield 

 The willow in the tented field : 

 And game at anything to ride. 

 No fence too high, no ditch too wide. 



His cousin, Frederick Green. 



There's Todhunter from Parndon 



Preserver of the fox. 

 And W'almsley, just established 



In his cosy hunting-bo.x ; 

 The " Major "' with moustaches waxed. 



So killing to the maids, 

 And Calverley released to-day 



From Warley's dull parades. 



Here's Lawrence Cure and Bury 

 (Great Lord of Nazing, hail !) 



Here's Lockwood from his mansion 

 That overlooks the vale. 



The Hon. W. H. Allsopp, Lieut. -Col. in the Worcestershire Yeomanry. 

 23 



