COL. ANSTRUTHER THOMSON 217 



H stands for Colonel Hunt a real customer is he, 

 Who o'er the fences flying 'tis a pleasure for to see ; 

 Whether mixed up nice or nasty, he takes them as they come, 

 Nor looks into particulars about the crust or crumb. 



I next, which stands for Iveson a good but dullish dog, 



Who blushes like a maiden, but snorts like any hog 



When his friends at Bicester get him down, and mercilessly poke 



Their knuckles in his ribs, the which he doesn't think a joke. 



Now K it stands for Kapital, and in the " categories " 

 Are Barrington and Lambton and other "chers amis" 

 Who for reasons one or other I don't put in my song, 

 And, besides, to name them all would make my alphabet too long. 



L stands for Little Lambton (he's been mentioned just above), 

 And M stands for Mackenzie, who I'm sure's been crossed in love ; 

 When you see -his doleful visage the impression that it leaves 

 Is surely that Mackenzie, sir, must be " Mackenzie Greaves". 



M also stands for Marsham, all whiskers and moustache 

 If mine were half as lanky I should use " Myrifik Starch " ; 

 He looks bold as a lion, but I'm sure you'll all agree, 

 That Bullock's heart inside it is no bigger than a pea. 



N now N shall be Ned Harrison no neddy man is he, 



Though crashing past on thirty pounds your swell on hundreds 



three ; 



For well he knows, where'er he goes, no risk attends his lot 

 Life's not at stake, for he can't break a neck he hasn't got. 



in Pytchley stands for Opetown, whose lady is so stout ! 

 And P is for the Post-boy who pilots her about ; 



But here there ain't no genuine O to bring into my verses, 



And I cannot clip my " H's," than bad English nothing worse is. 



P stands for Philip Pierrepoint, who's forgotten more than " Q " 

 That's Quartermain, or Anderson or Symonds ever knew ; 



1 don't quite skip the letter if you'll take the cue from me, 

 But in all the country round about the deil a " Q " I see. 



Then T is the Taylor who killed a cow, they say, 

 Because to his orchard came to pick a bit of hay ; 

 In a cherry-stealing urchin, too, a brace of slugs he put, 

 And also shot a horse because he trod upon his foot. 



