SOME WELL-KNOWN SUPPORTERS. 



235 



There was flying and creeping, and balking and spurting, 



There was craning and cramming, and tailing and skirting. 



Oh ! it left far behind the famed hunt of the Trossachs, 



We'll compare it to naught but the French and the Cossacks. 



Now Spur, Walker and Wilks for the turnpike are dashing. 



And Kitchinman recklessly hazards a splashing. 



There's Judd, Hardman and Bartman and Cowper abreast. 



And Strickland, whose bellows are none of the best. 



But to name all the polls and the places they took, 



Would be worse than the great Grecian bard's Second Book. 



And the feats and the fates of the glorious few. 



Our Parnassus could no longer offer to view. 



So no more. Let's away, — but what's this that we meet. 



With his scrambling posthorse and postillion's seat r 



Some accident, sureh' ; — the devil to pay ; — 



For ' the devil ' is all we can get him to say. 



A groom, on a chestnut, he always keeps nigh, 



When we ask him, he tells us the devil knows why; 



Now he rattles away round a fallow, full tear, — - 



When we ask him, he tells us the devil knows where ; 



But at night he'll recall all the run and the row; — 



If you ask tis, we must say the devil knows how : 



But to this we'll agree, be his tale what it may, 



That this sure may be counted the devil's own day. 



The Rev. Thomas Dayrell, who is mentioned in the 

 above spirited poem, was the Rector of Marston, and was 

 a very hard man. He used to ride a roaring horse, one that 

 made a great noise, but was as clever as they are made, and 

 good=looking to boot. The story goes that once when the 

 hounds met at Bishopthorpe the rector was riding this horse, 

 and Archbishop Harcourt, who had a keen eye for every- 

 thing good in horse and hound, immediately spotted him, 

 and went up to his owner to have a talk about him. After 

 hearing the archbishop's laudatory remarks, he replied that 

 he was a good-looking horse, but that, unfortunately, he 

 was a roarer. 'Ah!' replied the archbishop. 'What is the 



