100 



THE TRINITY FOOT BEAGLES 



Now 

 And 



we 



set 



stump over stubbles, now plod over plough, 

 through the fences I can't tell you how. 



When with mud, thorns, and hills,^ all 



are pretty near beat. 

 And steam rises of mixed perspiration 



and heat. 

 In fact, when all others are pretty near 



dead 

 Still Valentine Whitby trots gaily 



ahead. 



Well, we catch her at last among bushes and ruts. 

 And Telltale - hangs on till he tears out the guts. 

 Then we stand till we feel rather cooler than warmer. 

 And give the defunct quarry's corpse to the farmer. 

 Then homeward we go feeling cheerful though damp. 

 While perchance one or two get a touch of the cramp, 

 But Whitby, whilst others run, stumble and grunt. 

 Puts his hands in his pockets and toddles in front. 



^ Must have been a day on the " Gogs." — F. C. K, 



- A perfect marvel to " hang on " : he brought a beat hare out of a culvert under|a 

 road, dragged out by the hind legs with the thong of my hunting crop. 



