<h2><SPAN name="page101"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>’WARE HOLES</h2>
<p>[‘’<i>Ware Holes!</i>’ <i>is the expression
used in the hunting-field to warn those behind against
rabbit-burrows or other such dangers</i>.]</p>
<p class="poetry">A sportin’ death! My word it
was!<br/>
An’ taken in a sportin’ way.<br/>
Mind you, I wasn’t there to see;<br/>
I only tell you what they say.</p>
<p class="poetry">They found that day at Shillinglee,<br/>
An’ ran ’im down to Chillinghurst;<br/>
The fox was goin’ straight an’ free<br/>
For ninety minutes at a burst.</p>
<p class="poetry">They ’ad a check at Ebernoe<br/>
An’ made a cast across the Down,<br/>
Until they got a view ’ullo<br/>
An’ chased ’im up to Kirdford town.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page102"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
102</span>From Kirdford ’e run Bramber way,<br/>
An’ took ’em over ’alf the
Weald.<br/>
If you ’ave tried the Sussex clay,<br/>
You’ll guess it weeded out the field.</p>
<p class="poetry">Until at last I don’t suppose<br/>
As ’arf a dozen, at the most,<br/>
Came safe to where the grassland goes<br/>
Switchbackin’ southwards to the coast.</p>
<p class="poetry">Young Captain ’Eadley, ’e was
there,<br/>
And Jim the whip an’ Percy Day;<br/>
The Purcells an’ Sir Charles Adair,<br/>
An’ this ’ere gent from London way.</p>
<p class="poetry">For ’e ’ad gone amazin’
fine,<br/>
Two ’undred pounds between ’is knees;<br/>
Eight stone he was, an’ rode at nine,<br/>
As light an’ limber as you please.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page103"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
103</span>’E was a stranger to the ’Unt,<br/>
There weren’t a person as ’e knew
there;<br/>
But ’e could ride, that London gent—<br/>
’E sat ’is mare as if ’e grew
there.</p>
<p class="poetry">They seed the ’ounds upon the scent,<br/>
But found a fence across their track,<br/>
And ’ad to fly it; else it meant<br/>
A turnin’ and a ’arkin’ back.</p>
<p class="poetry">’E was the foremost at the fence,<br/>
And as ’is mare just cleared the rail<br/>
He turned to them that rode be’ind,<br/>
For three was at ’is very tail.</p>
<p class="poetry">‘’Ware ’oles!’ says
’e, an’ with the word,<br/>
Still sittin’ easy on his mare,<br/>
Down, down ’e went, an’ down an’ down,<br/>
Into the quarry yawnin’ there.</p>
<p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page104"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
104</span>Some say it was two ’undred foot;<br/>
The bottom lay as black as ink.<br/>
I guess they ’ad some ugly dreams,<br/>
Who reined their ’orses on the brink.</p>
<p class="poetry">’E’d only time for that one cry;<br/>
‘’Ware ’oles!’ says
’e, an’ saves all three.<br/>
There may be better deaths to die,<br/>
But that one’s good enough for me.</p>
<p class="poetry">For mind you, ’twas a sportin’
end,<br/>
Upon a right good sportin’ day;<br/>
They think a deal of ’im down ’ere,<br/>
That gent what came from London way.</p>
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