50 



Not they — nor we either — in Wytham once more 

 The O. B. are out, with a stout cub before ; 

 Push up the long hill thro' the cover, and hear 

 Their earliest chime, in the Beautiful Year. 



Sweet birds and light leaves — ye may glitter and fly : 

 We send a sigh after, but only a sigh : 

 Thy death has a beauty that casteth out fear 

 With hope in thine ending, O Beautiful Year. 



K. St. J. T. 



HOW WE BEAT THE EAYOUEITE. 



*' Ay, Squire," said George Stevens, "• they back him at 

 evens — 



The race is all over bar shouting, they say : 

 The Clown ought to beat her — Dick Neville is sweeter 



Than ever ; he swears he can win all the way." 



A gentleman rider ! well, I'm an outsider ; 



But if he's a gent, who the deuce is a jock ? 

 Your swells mostly blunder — Dick rides for the plunder ; 



He rides, too, like thunder — he sits like a rock. 



He calls *' hunted fairly " a horse that has barely 

 Been stripped for a trot within sight of the hounds ; 



A horse that at Warwick beat Birdlime and Torick, 

 And gave Abdel Kader at Aintree nine pounds. 



They say we have no test to warrant a protest : 



Dick rides for a lord, and stands in with a steward. 



The light of their faces they show him his case is 

 Prejudged, and his verdict already secured. 



