And here of Nature’s kindly care Behold a curious proof, As nags are meant to leap, she puts A frog in every hoof! Whereas the mare, although her share She had of hoof and frog, On coming to a gate stopped short As stiff as any log; While Huggins in the stirrup stood With neck like neck of crane, As sings the Scottish song--“to see The _gate_ his _hart_ had gane.” And, lo! the dim and distant hunt Diminished in a trice: The steeds, like Cinderella’s team, Seemed dwindling into mice; And, far remote, each scarlet coat Soon flitted like a spark-- Though still the forest murmured back An echo of the bark! But sad at soul John Huggins turned: No comfort could he find; While thus the “Hunting Chorus” sped, To stay five bars behind. For though by dint of spur he got A leap in spite of fate-- Howbeit there was no toll at all-- They could not clear the gate. And, like Fitzjames, he cursed the hunt, And sorely cursed the day, And mused a New Gray’s elegy On his departed gray. Now many a sign at Woodford town Its Inn-vitation tells: But Huggins, full of ills, of course Betook him to the Wells, Where Rounding tried to cheer him up With many a merry laugh: But Huggins thought of neighbour Fig, And called for half-and-half. Yet, spite of drink, he could not blink Remembrance of his loss; To drown a care like his, required Enough to drown a horse. When thus forlorn, a merry horn Struck up without the door-- The mounted mob were all returned; The Epping Hunt was o’er! And many a horse was taken out Of saddle, and of shaft; And men, by dint of drink, became The only “_beasts of draught_.” For now begun a harder run On wine, and gin, and beer; And overtaken men discussed The overtaken deer. How far he ran, and eke how fast, And how at bay he stood, Deerlike, resolved to sell his life As dearly as he could:-- And how the hunters stood aloof, Regardful of their lives, And shunned a beast, whose very horns They knew could _handle_ knives! How Huggins stood when he was rubbed By help and ostler kind, And when they cleaned the clay before, How worse “remained behind.” And one, how he had found a horse Adrift--a goodly gray! And kindly rode the nag, for fear The nag should go astray; Now Huggins, when he heard the tale, Jumped up with sudden glee; [Illustration: THE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON.] [Illustration: “I WISH YOU MAY GET IT.”] “A goodly gray! why, then, I say, That gray belongs to me! “Let me endorse again my horse, Delivered safe and sound; And gladly I will give the man A bottle and a pound!”