20 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



And the Huntsman knows what a hound can do, 

 And he knows that I know that he knows it, too : 

 He knows my voice on a fox is true, 



And the blood of a fox my joy; 

 So clear the way for the pick of the pack, 

 When he waves us in from the bay mare's back 

 With his " 'Leu-'leu, Vagabond — Vagabond — Vaga- 

 bond ! 



'Leu-'leu, Vagabond, boy ! " 



I'm a slinking, blinking beast on a bench, 



I'm a sulking, hulking bully at home. 

 But I'm king of the sport of kings as I wrench 



Thro' the woods where the red rogues roam ; 

 And my fine sleek mates must bury their hates 



And gather and gallop to get to the cry 

 When the brushwood rocks and the word is, " Fox ! — 



On the faith of the old blue-pye." 

 For the Huntsman knows what a hound can do. 

 And he knows that I know that he knows it, too : 

 He knows my voice on a fox is true. 



And the blood of a fox my joy; 

 So cleave your way to the pick of the pack. 

 When he wakes the woods from the bay mare's back 

 With his " Huic, to Vagabond ! — Huic, to Vagabond ! 



Yoo-ick, Vagabond, boy ! " 



I'm a creepy, sleepy slug in the straw. 

 But endure as sure as fate on a line. 



And a fox must make the most of his law 

 When the set of his mask is mine; 



