Change Alley bears to speculate, And green and scarlet runners, such 'Twas strange to think what difference A single creature made A single stag had caused a whole Now Huggins from his saddle rose, In shape like half a hearse-though not For this contained the deer alive, And not the dear deceased! And now began a sudden stir, His antlered head shone blue and red, One curious gaze of mild amaze, Now Huggins, standing far aloof, Till all at once he saw the beast Away he went, and many a score On horse and ass-like high and low Good lord! to see the riders now, A score were sprawling on the grass, Some lost their stirrups, some their whips, Some had no caps to show; But few, like Charles at Charing Cross, Rode on in Statue quo. "O dear! O dear!" now might you hear, "I've surely broke a bone;" "My head is sore"-with many more Such speeches from the thrown. Howbeit their wailings never moved Who grinned, as once the Devil grinned, And hunters good, that understood, For deer must have due course of law, But now Old Robin's foes were set And here observe how dog and man Towler and Jowler-howlers all, No spur he lacked; fear stuck a knife And every dog he knew had got Away, away! he scudded like Now flew to "hills we know not of," Now, nun-like, took the vale. Another squadron charging now, But who was he with flying skirts, A whipper-in? no whipper-in: A member of police, for whom Away they went, then, dog and deer, The maddest horses never knew Some gave a shout, some rolled about, And anticked as they rode; And butchers whistled on their curs, And milkmen tally-ho'd ! About two score there were, and more, That gallopped in the race; The rest, alas! lay on the grass, But even those that gallopped on The field kept getting more select, For some pulled up, and left the hunt, And vainly rose and "ran a muck,' And some, in charging hurdle stakes, What else could be premised of blades. But Roundings, Tom and Bob, no gate, And by their side see Huggins ride, No means he had, by timely check, For firm and fast, between his teeth, The biter held the bitt. Trees raced along, all Essex fled Beneath him as he sate; He never saw a county go At such a county rate! |