COL. ANSTRUTHER THOMSON 295 



have given over everything to Worcester except this 

 place". The Duke returned in time for lunch. He 

 was rather more bent than last time I saw him and 

 his hands very bad ; but he was cheery and kind as 

 usual, and that was the last time I ever saw him. 

 Coming home we had tea at Alfred Grace's. 



One evening the conversation turned on how 

 many packs of hounds we had hunted with. Wilkin- 

 son took the list of hounds and read out the names, 

 and each of us answered " yes " or " no ". I think 

 Randolph's score was fifty-six. When Wilkinson 

 came to the Western Hounds, which hunt the Land's 

 End, he said, " No one has been out there ? " " Yes, 

 I have," and that made my score up to 101. 



One day when we did not hunt Randolph wrote 

 these lines : 



Belvoir and Brocklesby, Badminton, Burton, 



B on the Button, wind up the horn; 

 Over the rides, cheer up the chase, boys, 



No matter the kennel at which they were born. 



Belvoir for tan, and Burton for wear, sir, 

 Brocklesby keeping you well on the line ; 



Badminton pies swing along cheerily, 

 Finding a scent, be it wild, be it fine. 



Shades of the Belvoir, Goosey and Goodall, 



Smith with the " Rallywood," Brocklesby's fame; 



Lord Henry Bentinck bred always for dash, sir, 

 Badminton Hounds, a time-honoured name. 



Each have their virtue, all are for hunting, 



Entries put forward soon die away ; 

 Like many a huntsman and many a sportsman. 



Leaves but a memory of a long bygone day. 



