28 



Look ; Foreman is feathering away on the Kne, 



He opens ! The others are b)^, 

 He seems to be tied with invisible twine, 

 So close does he hunt as he sinks the incline, 



" Go hark " how they fly to his cry. 



They turn at the gallop and swing to the right, 



Where Lovely is racing at speed, 

 And Foreman's bright colours of lemon and white 

 Are always in front and make everything bright, 



While Foolish tries hard for the lead. 



Go steady, they check where the fallow is dry. 



Is Villager speaking to wing ? 

 Turn Forester back, such a juvenile cry 

 Is not to be trusted, he'll do by-and-by. 



He has such a stride and a swing. 



But Foreman is forward and anxious to learn 



The line of his hare as she ran ; 

 He feathers and works from his head to his stern, 

 So eager to try and so handy to turn 



" Yoi o-it, to him, Foreman, old man ! " 



By the side of the drove, see him streaming away, 



The others all fly to him still, 

 Away through the roots, he is happy and gay, 

 Away — he is good through the whole of the day, 



To the last does he work with a will. 



