Enjoying with the lamb
A lengthen'd life, that might have been
A Martial Epigram.
[THE EPPING HUNT.][28]
ADVERTISEMENT.
Striding in the Steps of Strutt—The historian of the old English ports—the author of the following pages has endeavored to record a yearly revel, already fast hastening to decay. The Easter phase will soon be numbered with the pastimes of past times: its dogs will have had their day, and its Deer will be Fallow. A few more seasons, and this City Common Hunt will become uncommon.
In proof of this melancholy decadance, the ensuing epistle is inserted. It was penned by an underling at the Kells, a person more accustomed to riding than writing:—
"Sir,—About the Hunt. In anser to your Innqueries, their as been a great falling off laterally, so muches this year that there was nobody allmost. We did smear nothing provisionally, hardly a Bottle extra, wich is a proof in Pint. In short our Hunt may be said to be in the last Stag of a decline."
"I am, Sir,"
"With respects from your humble Servant,"
"BARTHOLOMEW RUTT."