Of horn and morn, and hark and bark, And echo's answering sounds, All poets' wit hath ever writ In _dog_-rel verse of _hounds_.

Alas! there was no warning voice To whisper in his ear, Thou art a fool in leaping _Cheap_ To go and hunt the _deer_!

No thought he had of twisted spine, Or broken arms or legs; Not _chicken-hearted_ he, altho'

T'was whispered of his _egg_!

Ride out he would, and hunt he would, Nor dreamt of ending ill; Mayhap with Dr. _Ridout's_ fee, And Surgeon _Hunter's_ bill.

So he drew on his Sunday boots, Of lustre superfine; The liquid black they wore that day Was _Warren_-ted to shine.

His yellow buckskins fitted close, As once upon a stag; Thus well equipt he gaily skipt, At once, upon his nag.

But first to him that held the rein A crown he nimbly flung: For holding of the horse?--why, no-- For holding of his tongue.

To say the horse was Huggins' own, Would only be a brag; His neighbor Fig and he went halves, Like Centaurs, in a nag.

And he that day had got the gray, Unknown to brother cit; The horse he knew would never tell, Altho' it was a _tit_.

A well-bred horse he was, I wis, As he began to show, By quickly "rearing up within The way he ought to go."

But Huggins, like a wary man, Was ne'er from saddle cast; Resolved, by going very slow, On sitting very fast.

And so he jogged to Tot'n'am Cross, An ancient town well known, Where Edward wept for Eleanor In mortar and in stone.

A royal game of fox and goose, To play on such a loss; Wherever she set down her _orts_, Thereby he put a _cross_.

Now Huggins had a crony here, That lived beside the way; One that had promised sure to be His comrade for the day.

Whereas the man had changed his mind, Meanwhile upon the case!

And meaning not to hunt at all, Had gone to Enfield Chase.

For why, his spouse had made him vow To let a game alone, Where folks that ride a bit of blood May break a bit of bone.

"Now, be his wife a plague for life!

A coward sure is he": Then Huggins turned his horse's head, And crossed the bridge of Lea.

Thence slowly on thro' Laytonstone, Past many a Quaker's box,-- No friends to hunters after deer, Tho' followers of a _Fox_.

And many a score behind--before-- The self-same route inclined, And, minded all to march one way, Made one great march of mind.

Gentle and simple, he and she, And swell, and blood, and prig; And some had carts, and some a chaise, According to their gig.

Some long-eared jacks, some knacker's hacks, (However odd it sounds), Let out that day _to hunt_, instead _Of going to the hounds!_

And some had horses of their own, And some were forced to job it: And some, while they inclined to _Hunt_, Betook themselves to _Cob-it_.

All sorts of vehicles and vans, Bad, middling, and the smart; Here rolled along the gay barouche, And there a dirty cart!

And lo! a cart that held a squad Of costermonger line; With one poor hack, like Pegasus, That slaved for all the Nine!

Yet marvel not at any load, That any horse might drag, When all, that morn, at once were drawn Together by a stag!

Now when they saw John Huggins go At such a sober pace; "Hallo!" cried they; "come, trot away, You'll never see the chase!"

But John, as grave as any judge, Made answer quite as blunt; "It will be time enough to trot, When I begin to hunt!"

And so he paced to Woodford Wells, Where many a horseman met, And letting go the _reins_, of course, Prepared for _heavy wet_.

And lo! within the crowded door, Stood Rounding, jovial elf; Here shall the Muse frame no excuse, But frame the man himself.

A snow-white head, a merry eye, A cheek of jolly blush; A claret tint laid on by health, With Master Reynard's brush;

A hearty frame, a courteous bow, The prince he learned it from; His age about threescore and ten, And there you have Old Tom.

In merriest key I trow was he, So many guests to boast; So certain congregations meet, And elevate the host.

"Now welcome lads," quoth he, "and prads, You're all in glorious luck: Old Robin has a run to-day, A noted forest buck.

"Fair Mead's the place, where Bob and Tom In red already ride; 'Tis but a _step_, and on a horse You soon may go _a-stride_."

So off they scampered, man and horse, As time and temper pressed-- But Huggins, hitching on a tree, _Branched_ off from all the rest.

Howbeit he tumbled down in time To join with Tom and Bob, All in Fair Mead, which held that day Its own fair mead of mob.

Idlers to wit--no Guardians some, Of Tattlers in a squeeze; Ramblers in heavy carts and vans, Spectators up in trees.

Butchers on backs of butchers' hacks, That shambled to and fro!

Bakers intent upon a buck, Neglectful of the _dough_!

Change Alley Bears to speculate, As usual, for a fall; And green and scarlet runners, such As never climbed a wall!

'Twas strange to think what difference A single creature made; A single stag had caused a whole _Stag_nation in their trade.

Now Huggins from his saddle rose, And in the stirrups stood: And lo! a little cart that came Hard by a little wood.

In shape like half a hearse,--tho' not For corpses in the least; For this contained the _deer alive_, And not the _dear deceased_!

And now began a sudden stir, And then a sudden shout, The prison-doors were opened wide, And Robin bounded out!

His antlered head shone blue and red, Bedecked with ribbons fine; Like other bucks that come to 'list The hawbucks in the line.

One curious gaze of mild amaze, He turned and shortly took; Then gently ran adown the mead, And bounded o'er the brook.

Now Huggins, standing far aloof, Had never seen the deer, Till all at once he saw the beast Come charging in his rear.

Away he went, and many a score Of riders did the same, On horse and ass--like high and low And Jack pursuing game!

Good Lord! to see the riders now, Thrown off with sudden whirl, A score within the purling brook, Enjoyed their "early purl."