148 FOX-HUNTING 



Two hounds of Baron Rothschild's breed, 



Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed, 



Close on his flying traces came, 



And nearly won the desperate game. 



But just as the Earl was preparing to sound 



The dreaded "whoo-whoop" why, he ran to ground; 



So they dug him out ; and the Earl and his groom, 



And the Browns and the gent and the man with the 



broom, 



And the fox and the hounds are at Tring again, 

 And the Earl has gone back by the five o'clock train. 



How well I remember some of those 

 illegitimate days, and at this distance of time 

 I can do no harm in telling tales of those 

 with whom I was a post facto accomplice. 

 Not only I, but the very hounds knew what 

 was " up " when we met at Liverton. 

 Hounds' heads all one way ; ears cocked 

 and sterns waving, and every now and again 

 a dash of the wilder members of the pack, 

 followed by cracking whips and hunt servants 



