A Rum One to Follow, a Bad One to Beat
by G.J. Whyte-Melville

Read by Gail Wofford

Come, I’ll give you the health of a man we all know A man we all swear by, a friend of our own, With the hounds running hardest, he’s safest to go, And he’s always in front, and he’s often alone. A rider unequaled - a sportsmen complete, A rum one to follow, a bad one to beat. As he sits in the saddle, a baby could tell, He can hustle a sticker, a flyer can spare, He has science and nerve, and decision as well, He knows where he’s going and means to be there. The first day I saw him they said at the meet, "That’s a rum one to follow, a bad one to beat." We threw off at the Castle, we found in the holt, Like wildfire the beauties went screaming away, From the rest of the field he came out like a bolt, And he tackled to work like a school boy to play, As he rammed down his hat, and got home in his seat, This rum one to follow, this bad one to beat. ‘Twas a caution, I vow, but to see the man ride! O’er the rough and the smooth he went sailing along; And what Providence sent him, he took in his stride Though the ditches were deep, and the fences were strong. Thinks I, "If he leads me I’m in for a treat, With this rum one to follow, this bad one to beat." Ere they’d run for a mile, there was room in the front, Such a scatter and squander you never did see! And I honestly own I’d been out at the hunt, But the broad of his back was the beacon for me. So I kept him in sight, and was proud of the feat, This rum one to follow, this bad one to beat! Till we came to a rasper, as black as your hat, You couldn’t see over - you see couldn’t see through, So he made for the gate, knowing what he was at, And the chain being round it, why - over he flew! While I swore a round oath that I needn’t repeat, At this rum one to follow, this bad one to beat. For a place I liked better, I hastened to seek, But the place I liked better I sought for in vain; And I honestly own, if the truth I must speak, That I never caught sight of my leader again, But I thought, "I'd give something to have his receipt," This rum one to follow, this bad one to beat. They told me that night he went best through the run, They said that he hung up a dozen to dry, When a brook in the bottom stopped most of their fun, But I know that I never went near it, not I.  For I found it a fruitless attempt to compete With this rum one to follow, this bad one to beat.  So we'll fill him a bumper as deep as you please, And we'll give him a cheer, for deny it who can, When the country is roughest he's most at his ease, And the pace cannot stop, nor the fences defeat, This rum one to follow, this bad one to beat.