The next a yellow-faced lean attorney,
And the last a Justice, as some one said.
Slap at the fence went old Sir Walter,
Slap at the ditch by the pollard-tree,
Crash through the hazels, over the water,
And wherever he went, there went the three.
Into the hill-fence broke Sir Walter,
Right through the tangle of branch and
thorns,
Swish'd the rasper up by the windmill,