BookRix

What True-Bred City Sportsman Has Not In His Day Put Off The Most Urgent
Business--Perhaps His Marriage, Or Even The Interment Of His Rib--That
He Might "Brave The Morn" With That Renowned Pack, The Surrey
Subscription Foxhounds? Lives There, We Would Ask, A Thoroughbred,
Prime, Bang-Up, Slap-Dash, Break-Neck, Out-And-Out Artist, Within Three
Miles Of The Monument, Who Has Not Occasionally "Gone A Good 'Un" With
This Celebrated Pack? And Shall We, The Bard Of Eastcheap, Born All
Deeds Of Daring To Record, Shall We, Who So Oft Have Witnessed--Nay,
Shared--The Hardy Exploits Of Our Fellow-Cits, Shall We Sit Still, And
Never Cease The Eternal Twirl Of Our Dexter Around Our Sinister Thumb,
While Other Scribes Hand Down To Future Ages The Paltry Feats Of
Beardless Meltonians, And Try To Shame Old Father Thames Himself With
Muddy Whissendine'S Foul Stream? Away! Thou Vampire, Indolence, That
Suckest The Marrow Of Imagination, And Fattenest On The Cream Of Idea
Ere Yet It Float On The Milk Of Reflection.