A Rum One to Follow, a Bad One to
Beat
by G.J. Whyte-Melville
Read by Gail Wofford
Come, Ill 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, hes safest to go,
And hes always in front, and hes 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 hes going and means to be there.
The first day I saw him they said at the meet,
"Thats 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!
Oer 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 Im in for a treat,
With this rum one to follow, this bad one to beat."
Ere theyd run for a mile, there was room in the
front,
Such a scatter and squander you never did see!
And I honestly own Id 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 couldnt see over - you see couldnt 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 neednt 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.