We therefore wended round by lanes,
With mud and mire one clarty posset.
And after crossing Colwith Bridge,—
The narrow ways forbade all other
Course but jostling in the hedge,
Or following after one another,—
In single file through Fletcher’s wood
Away we rustled, splashed, and clattered—
The foremost steed threw up the mud,
Bespattering me, whilst mine bespattered