146 FOX-HUNTING 



themselves with the best interests of real 

 sport. 



LORD LONSDALE'S HOUNDS: 

 1849-1850. 



IT was an Earl of ancient name 

 Who hunted the fox, but preferred him tame, 

 Though his sire had been a hunter free, 

 As bold as e'er rode o'er a grass countree. 



The sire would mount his high-bred horse, 

 And view the wild fox from the hillside gorse ; 

 The son goes down by a second-class train, 

 Worries a bagman, and home again. 



Tis half-past twelve by the railway clocks, 



And the Earl has called for his horse and his fox ; 



And behind the Earl there rides the Earl's groom, 



And then comes a man with a long birch broom, 



Clad in the Earl's discarded breeches, 



Who will tickle the fox when he comes to the ditches. 



The Earl's admirers are ranged in Brown's yard, 

 They all wear top-boots and intend to ride hard ; 

 Whether "wily fox" or timid hare 

 Be the game to-dav, none of them care. 



