174 WARWICKSHIRE HUNT. 



Hardest riders Mere baffl'd — at times in the burst, 



The first became last;, and the last became first ; 



So speedy afoot was our fox, and so sly. 



The best of our nags of the pace appear'd sh^^ 



Enough of what Patlanders call ' wicked riding,' 



A bore to John Bull when he can't well confide in 



His horse — timber fences at least ev'ry other, 



A wide yawning ' squire-trap,' on one side or t'other. 1 



The hats of some gentlemen, spite of their tying. 

 Ballooning were seen, in the air rudely flying ; 

 Gallant Mevrick, who always goes well, 'tis agreed. 

 And some others lost hats in the height of their speed. ^ 

 To stop in the chase for a hat there's no merit, 

 A thing never dreamt of by riders of spirit. 

 That reynard escap'd from the Field it is plain. 

 Then rouse him once more, boys, and at him again. 



The hatless, instaiiter, sans picking and choosing, 

 The choice, like old Hobson's, left no time for musing, 

 Quickly drew from their pockets a kerchief and bound. 

 To keep off the weather, their temples around ; 

 And look'd at a distance, 'twas waggishly said. 

 Like a group of old market-wi\ es cloak'd up in red ! 3 



1 There were two bad accidents. Mr. Holden, of Barford, injured 

 liis horse in the shoulder, but did not know how nor when lie did it ; 

 and Mr. Williams, (son of the General,) staked his horse. 



2 Mr. Mevrick, and an Irish gentleman staying at Leamington, 

 rode bare-headed. 



3 This run, as given by Ximrod, would have been inserted, had not 

 the copy either been mislaid or not preserved. A similar excuse must 

 plead in another run or two, for any omissions of the same desciiptioa. 



