76 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



There's the governess waving with might and with main, 



See her walking-stick thumping his back like a flail ! 

 The hounds in full cry close behind him are tearing; 



His limbs seem to totter, his lungs seem to fail; 

 He leaps for the bank with an effort despairing, 



And into a rabbit -hole creeps like a snail. 

 The spade and the pick get him out double-quick; 



" Who-hoop ! " and the bagman is dead as a nail. 

 " Forty-five of the best. Now for luncheon and rest ; 



And let Leicestershire envy and Lincolnshire quail ! " 

 (Oh, a three-legged fox and the words " Quid prosunt ? " 

 Should be motto and crest for The Punchpuddle Hunt !) 



