HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 107 



Were heard to talk over each separate Pack, 



Of Sutton and Forester, Goodall and Jack; 



The experienced fox recounted over 



Many a chase from many a covert. 



" Tow'ds the Belvoir," he said, *'he'd the greatest 



disgust, 

 For a fox had no chance, he was sure to be burst ; 

 And since he had left them and retired to the Quorn, 

 He had ne'er felt so safe since the day he was born. 

 ** With Goodall, that devil," said he, ** when they find 



me. 

 There's no time to be lost as when Sutton's behind me; 

 My life well I know's but a delicate question, 

 It is enough to disturb a fox's digestion. 

 ** Not so with old Sutton, when I hear him chatter, 

 I feel well assured there is not much the matter. 

 For full oft for a while I have topped to survey 

 The start from the covert when they holloa ' away ! * 

 ** I know there's no hurry, for while there's such 



damning, 

 And the field are recklessly riding and cramming, 

 I've time to look back and view at my leisure, 

 My pursuers at fault with infinite pleasure. 

 "What contrast there is between the field and the Pack ! 

 The one are all ardour and the other all slack ; 

 There are Bromley and Forester riding like mad, 

 For there is nothing can stop that terrible lad. 

 "When close hugging the hounds he switches a rasper. 

 Rides over the best dog whoop to old Jasper ; 

 Then Gardiner's impatient, his patient behind. 

 But gently reproves him, and says he is unkind. 

 ** And swears there's no scent; what idiot supposes 

 The dogs from his kennel are born without noses? 

 Or that his system so good should e'er be deemed slack. 

 With his very fine headwork in handling his Pack. 

 " These Leicestershire sportsmen are born without 



brains ; 

 He who tries to show sport is a fool for his pains. 

 His time is thrown away, also wasted his art — 

 * I will take my hounds home,' says Sir Richard the 



Bart/' 



