344 WARWICKSHIRE HUNT. 



right, Pillerton to the left, and bore away for Edge Hill, 

 where we killed him after a good hunting run of one hour 

 and ten minutes with a fair holding scent. 



The last meet of the Warwickshire, this season, was 

 on Saturday, March 26th, at Eatington Village. 



THE LAST TIME FOR THE SEASON. 



' The last time for the season,' I shudder to hear ! 

 It is the knell of the past, and mingles with fear, 

 With our hopes of the future ; it draws forth a sigh 

 As we think of the seasons how quickly they fly ; 

 By inquisitive looks the last meet you will know, 

 And the answers to questions of, where do you go ? 

 I'm for London this spring — and I'm off for the Rhine — 

 At Ascot and Epsom I'm determined to shine — 

 To France says another — then Geneva's the word, 

 And every place under the heavens is heard. 



As to summering the horse queries are raised, 

 And both Nebuchadnezzar and Nimrod are praised. 

 Some studs like the former are predestined to range, 

 And cull their own sallad by the side of a grange ; 

 While others are doomed to be immured in a shed, 

 And as Nimrod prescribes, on good oats to be fed ; 

 Each system has merits with propriety used, 

 Its ills in abundance, if discretion's abused. 

 The young horse of full habit, to fever inclined. 

 Let him live upon grasses, and breathe in the wind ; 

 But the old one, whose blood has been temper'd by age. 

 You may feed like a turkey and keep in a cage. 

 A foot that is brittle should be placed in the dew, 

 Whilst the soft and the pliant on litter may do. 

 One leg without injury may traverse the ground. 

 But its hardness another will render unsound. 

 Adopt then the system your own horse may require, 

 Or you'll live to become a perpetual buyer. 

 ' The last time for the season,' reminds me to say 

 Farewell to our friends who are hastening away; 

 May pleasures attend them wheresoever they roam, 

 And pleasures more exquisite then Avelcome them home I 



BRUSH. 



