14^ Cbe Wcnslcpdale Rounas Past ana Present. 



The Doctor looked savage ; the Doctor looked black ; 

 Doctor John wished himself miles away on his hack ; 

 He could feel for the Master, as we very well know, 

 He had hunted the country long, long years ago. 



Mr. Christie was angry, and so was John Maughan, 

 So was old Tommy Croft, who was ready since dawn, 

 And he mumbled and grumbled till he jolly well swore — 

 He had "ne'er seen the like, altho' nearly four score." 



Now, while writing this poem, the snow-covered ground 

 Forbids all our hunting, and keeps in the hound ; 

 And it makes us all crusty, and grumble and grunt, 

 But there's no use in bad language, it wont make us hunt. 



So here's to the time when the horn and the hound. 

 Once more at the Meet, looking keen, shall be found, 

 Here's a bumper to those who have come from afar; 

 Here's "A-hunting," my lads, with a hip, hip, hurrah ! 



F. H. C. R. 

 FiNGHALL, December I2th, 1882. 



