Then came the dreaded laughter, gibe, and joke-
His parting word each laughing Sportsman spoke..............
"Good airy room for nothing!”—“ Music gratis !”

Cheap lodgings!"—" Good society !”—“ Jam satis.” "The wooden horse!" cries one ; "the walls of Troy !" "The Scœan Gate !”—“ The handsome Dardan boy!!" “I can't get out!" Sterne's starling used to shout, And SNAGGS proclaimed aloud, “I can't get out !”

A village carpenter at length was found,

And bribed by DICK to break the village pound.
Night had once more done all things nearly brown
When DICK again reach'd Dian's favorite town.
A note awaits him-Cupid on the seal :

(Oh, Heav'ns! how queer such billet makes one feel!)—
"TO-NIGHT, AT EIGHT, UPON the Bridge of Sighs-
BE PUNCTUAL AS YOUR HAPPINESS YOU PRIZE."

"Who can it be ?......I have it! 'tis the fair

Who graced the meet, and gave me such a stare!"

In thoughts of conquest, dinner was forgot,

And DICK, for once, blest MELTON for his lot.

Know all to whom these presents come, who ne'er
Have seen MELTONIA, or had quarters there,
That at the entrance of this famed metropolis,
Hard by Lord Wilton's house-the true Acropolis→→→
Spanning the Wreke three handsome arches rise,
Known as the lover's leap-" the Bridge of Sighs!"
On this, at eight, our Hero took his stand:
No angel came, no Thisbe waved her hand,
No sylph-like goddess gently glided by-
Upon "the Bridge of Sighs" he hears no sigh.
At last, poor SNAGGS, when hope had nearly died,
A female figure by the moonbeams spied.

My angel in disguise!" he cried......when, lo!
The angel near'd, and proved Old Betty Snow!! ›
"A hoax!" cried SNAGGS" a wicked, waggish hoax !"
While titt'ring sparks, in ambush, crack'd their jokes.
SNAGGS heard, and off with railway speed he flew :
The laughing lurkers hoot him, and pursue :
But vain the chase! uncaught he reach'd his door,
And vow'd but once to leave its precincts more.

He bought three brushes, lots of pads and ears,
Trophies of sport, to serve for future years.

He left the town next morn, and sought again
His own congenial clime, beloved COCKAIGNE!

One moral from his Sporting Life he drew,
(As future 'vent'rous SNOBS won't fail to do)—
"Well! my month's stay my mind at length convinces
That MELTON's only meant for Peers and Princes."

Leicestershire, April 1839.

CHARNWOOD.

FINIS.

SPLENDID RUN WITH MR. FOLJAMBE'S HOUNDS.

Although this favor was received too late for insertion in our last Number, and may be considered almost out of date, it is too "varmint" to need any apology for giving it even at this the eleventh hour of the Season.

"Forsan et hæc olim meminisse juvabit."

NOTHING was ever more truly said than what we have quoted above. Who has not felt extreme delight at recounting over the pleasures of by-gone days? and who descends more deeply into this vast source of gratification than the ardent follower after the wandering chase? With what joy does his recollection revert to the many happy hours he has spent whilst listening to the merry concert of the various-toned pack on a still autumn's morning, when each little feathered warbler strives its utmost to add harmony to the soul-stirring music! What can equal his rapture when he has viewed the sinking cub betake himself to the broad riding, not daring again to enter the deep recesses of his wellknown haunts, and in an instant, like arrows slipped from a phalanx of archers, come the crashing pack, with two or three couples of his favorite entries of the season in front, dashing from scent to view! 'Tis but the business of a moment: he dies !-High over head he holds him up in triumph, and gives the glad who-whoop! But the Sportsman's recollection of his darling amusement ends not here: it is but the overture to days of greater enjoyment. November places over the face of the country its ragged mantle; and where is the lover of the Chase that can say he has not felt charmed at seeing hill and dale clad in this tattered-looking habiliment, which reminds him that hunting has now commenced in right earnest? Yes, this appearance calls back to his memory the quick tip-top fly-away twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, and forty minutes from his favorite gorses, with the tail-as in the House of Commons so in the hunting-field-much in the majority. He then thinks of the right good thing he has seen (chasing and hunting combined) from the woodlands. Ah!" says the old Sportsman, "give me a good woodland Hector," such as he remembers when Tom Smith and Osbaldeston hunted Lincolnshire-a real Wragby rattler" and I'll warrant, if there's aught of a scent, you and your horse return home perfectly satisfied the run was good (just one hour and fifty minutes), and the fox a tough old wood-ranger!" These are

66

a few of the retrospective pleasures, amongst hundreds of others, which give to the true Sportsman many hours of happy reflection; and that they may be increased a thousand-fold is our most sincere wish!-Thus much as an introduction to as good a run as we have seen this season. "I love the chase," &c.

On Monday, the 25th of March, Mr. Foljambe's hounds met at Finningly Park, where a large Field was assembled "to partake of the joys of the chase." The delightful scene was greatly enhanced by the presence of several ladies, whom we afterwards saw in the wood when the hounds were in full cry, and seemingly enjoying the sport in good earnest. But to the chase. The hounds were put into the covert at the low end, and had not been trying more than a minute when a fox was viewed about the middle of the wood. In the crack of a whip they were up to the hollow, and in full chorus: his first point seemed to be for out at the top of the wood, but he was headed by grooms returning with hacks; so bending to the right, through some small plantations, he finally broke away on the Hayes Field side up to the Great North Road: here the business commenced, and it was evident that we were in for a clipper. At this moment we can compare the aspect of affairs to nothing better than a large public dinner, with Sir Charles for President, the gallant pack as the general company, and the Squire officiating as Vice; and right merrily did they keep up the fun! They rattled away without the slightest check, (the hounds skimming the country like pigeons, and packing like cards, whilst the horsemen were lathering along like a barber's brush on Saturday night,) over Mount Pleasant, down the valley, leaving Shooter's Hill on the left, up to Piper Wood, slap through the covert, and would have gone away had he not been headed by one of those confounded straw-yard canaries, who at this period of the year are always either whistling or singing, and no doubt would like to be pairing too, as other birds do, had they the opportunity. Though he was some distance from the covert, he scared the painter (him of the brush) so much, that he retraced his line just the way he came, broke nearly where he entered, down the valley again, where we viewed him not two hundred yards before the hounds. Thirty-five minutes had now elapsed since the find, Union House breakfast-pace, and no mistake. Here a little check or two (caused by another knight of the pad having been seen and ours having been headed) gave royal Charley time to mend his bellows, which must have two-fox-power at least. Having recovered his wind, and the shock he received at sight of Sir Bacon Supperridge, he once more boldly struck into his former line, passing through the corner of Piper, shoving along like greased lightning, leaving Marlin on the left, to Swinnow Wood, but finding no shelter there, went over the Tickhill-road; skirting Mr. Ramsden's pleasure-grounds on the left, he bent his weary way for Serlby, Lord Galway's seat, but ere he could make that point, the high-pressure system again caused him to do a bit "Jim Crow;" so he dogged short round close to Scrooby Bar, nearly into the town of Bawtry (time one hour and twenty minutes up to this point), and pretty scrambling there was when they had gone over the Park, at the Park wall, the ground being level with the wall on the taking off-side, with

a drop of five feet into the road. "Sich a gittin down stairs we never did see," yet all except one or two got safely down. The gallant painter still went brushing on, whilst the determined pack were sticking to him much in the same earnest manner as does a cat to the calf of your leg when you tread on its tail. Austerfield was now passed just to the right; here another disaster befel us in the heading line-a whipcord waster, with a carriage, had seen the Chairman, and in his hurry told the Vice three fields wrong. This lost some time, which he made the most of. Being hit off again, he shaped his course over some low boggy ground up to Misson High Wood-why so called we are at a loss to conjecture, for it is as bare of covert as the chin of a fair spinster. On getting near to Misson Village, they were brought to slow hunting, and the President gave the company the slip, without leaving the least information where he had gone to. Hazard was now introduced, and the Vice began casting away; but throwing out every time, he found he'd no luck, so gave it up. If he could not nick it, the fox did, under the advantage of a nasty hail-storm and some very cold gravelly soil. Fortes fortuna juvat! The hounds and their master tried all they knew, but they never could own the line again. Thus escaped one of the stoutest foxes that ever wore a picture-duster, having stood before the hounds an hour and forty-five minutes, best pace nearly all the time. When out of covert the hounds scarcely ever spoke; or, in the words of Byron, they

"Strove to speak, but held their tongue,

Their voice was grown so weak.”

OCCUPET EXTREMUM SCABIES.

LIST OF MR. F. VILLEBOIS'S HOUNDS.

but

SOME few changes may have taken place during the past season; as the correct pedigree of hounds is of so much importance to all breeders, I give you the list as it stood for the season 1838–9.

Tidings.

Songstress... Sir. H. Goodricke's Solon...... Rally.