APPENDIX. 



May I let slip ? — say, what a catch 

 'Twould be with such to make a match : 

 (Fie ! Elder, fie ! how wrong ! how wicked ! 

 To pun upon the game of cricket !) 



si: * '^i ':■■ 



By this the pace has told its tale, 



The stoutest steeds begin to fail, 



With such deep ground, so holding scent. 



The greatest gluttons cry content. 



Abr'am' among the faithful few, 

 Waters and Waltham wait on you, 

 As still your lab'ring beast you urge, 

 When hounds from Cobbin brook emerge, 

 Till pausing at some gaping drain. 

 Obedient to your tight'ning rein, 

 Although he safe his burden bears, 

 The Priest- had almost said his prayers. 



The day will come, when our Q.C., 

 With awe and wonder, we shall see. 

 Seated in glory near the Strand, 

 Among the judges of the land — 

 Omen of coming greatness meet, 

 We see him landed on his seat. 

 Splashed head to foot, his scarf awry, 

 Is this our nattj- Secret'ry ? 

 And many a gallant, who at morn 

 Came forth in raiment bright, 

 On capering courser proudly borne, 

 Behold him ! now, at night, 



' Abraham, Mr. " Rix " Caldwcirs horse. 

 - Mr. Green s horse. 



