155 



Next, thumbs up, heels down, see Conyer's Jack, 

 So rosy, so active, pushing right 'cross the pack ; 

 Cracking and whooping, '' ' Ware poison ! 'ware nox !" 

 Which drove Meynell stark mad, and lost us the fox. 



Then, as we trudge home, we pass Master Swaddle, 

 Whipping Pastime before him, and carrying the saddle : 

 " Grood people," says he, " do you think she will die 

 Now I've bled her myself, in her mouth and her thigh ?" 



" Now let's to this ale-house," says Dick, '*for awhile. 

 And drink our old Maister in a cup of the mild ; 

 And as we sit boozing it over the fire. 

 Drink long life, health, riches, and sport to the Squire." 



By Mr. Loeaine Smith. 



Mr. Delme Eadcliffe, in that fascinating work, called 

 *' The Noble Science of Foxhunting," gives the following 

 particulars of Mr. Loraine Smith, the author of the 

 preceding poem : — 



"Of Mr. Loraine Smith, as a sportsman, it is unneces- 

 sary to speak. We may gather his character, in some 

 part, from the verses of several songs. * * * 

 The horse he rode on the day of the Billesdon Coplow 

 run was purchased of Mr. Cave Brown. He was a 

 brilliant hunter, got by Mercury. He was sold to Mr. 

 Eox Lane's father, at Bramham. Mr. Loraine Smith 

 was a skilful master of his pencil; and beneath a 

 painting, descriptive of the chase, appears the following 

 faithful record of this run : — 



" A view of Mr. Meynell's hounds, carrying a head 

 with their second fox, at the end of a chase from 

 Billesdon Coplow, Leicestershire : passed Tilton Woods, 



