His wife, Sal Ridden, was the same, A loud, bold, blonde abundant mare, With white horse teeth and stooks of hair, (Like polished brass) and such a manner It flaunted from her like a banner. Her father was Tom See the trainer; She rode a lovely earth-disdainer Which she and Billy wished to sell. [Illustration: Behind them rode her daughter Bell] Behind them rode her daughter Bell, A strange shy lovely girl whose face Was sweet with thought and proud with race, And bright with joy at riding there. She was as good as blowing air But shy and difficult to know. The kittens in the barley-mow, The setter's toothless puppies sprawling, The blackbird in the apple calling, All knew her spirit more than we, So delicate these maidens be In loving lovely helpless things. The Manor set, from Tencombe Rings, Came, with two friends, a set of six. Ed Manor with his cockerel chicks, Nob, Cob and Bunny as they called them, (God help the school or rule which galled them; They carried head) and friends from town. [Illustration: The Manor set, from Tencombe Rings] Ed Manor trained on Tencombe Down. He once had been a famous bat, He had that stroke, "the Manor-pat," Which snicked the ball for three, past cover. He once scored twenty in an over, But now he cricketed no more. He purpled in the face and swore At all three sons, and trained, and told Long tales of cricketing of old, When he alone had saved his side. Drink made it doubtful if he lied, Drink purpled him, he could not face The fences now, nor go the pace He brought his friends to meet; no more. His big son Nob, at whom he swore, Swore back at him, for Nob was surly, Tall, shifty, sullen-smiling, burly, Quite fearless, built with such a jaw That no man's rule could be his law Nor any woman's son his master. Boxing he relished. He could plaster All those who boxed out Tencombe way. A front tooth had been knocked away Two days before, which put his mouth A little to the east of south. And put a venom in his laughter. Cob was a lighter lad, but dafter; Just past eighteen, while Nob was twenty. Nob had no nerves but Cob had plenty So Cobby went where Nobby led. He had no brains inside his head, Was fearless, just like Nob, but put Some clog of folly round his foot, Where Nob put will of force or fraud; He spat aside and muttered Gawd When vext; he took to whiskey kindly And loved and followed Nobby blindly, And rode as in the saddle born.