97 



We are sucli plucky fellows we never fear a fall, 



But boldly face the fence or gate, the spreading brook, 



and wall ; 

 And those who crane or ride the lanes we hold are shy 



and slow, 

 And wdll ne'er delight in the foremost flight hke birds 



with us to go. 



And when we greet the well-known meet we quickly 



leave our hack, 

 And jump upon our hunter who is waiting with the 



pack. 

 Then crash into the cover both hounds and huntsmen go. 

 [Line omitted.] 



Hark there ! I hear a challenge ; it is old Music's note ! 

 A chorus joins — what joyous sounds now in the breezes 



float. 

 " Hark ! halloa !" cries the whip, for he has heard the 



huntsman blow — 

 The scent is good, and thro' the wood, by Jove ! how 



they do go. 



The huntsman cries, '•' Now, gently, pray hold hard, for 



there he breaks, 

 And straight across the open now his line he boldly 



takes : 

 He's fairly gone, so now we'll give a rattling tally-ho ; 

 And now we're right in the foremost flight, with a right 



good start to go." 



