Now I’ll give you a toast, lads, to all the fell packs,

To Masters and Huntsmen and Whips of aw maks,

You can have your athletics and games of all sorts,

But this hunting is surely the greatest of sports,

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho,

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho.

 
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John Peel was t’first hunter to gain lasting fame,

At Caldbeck not long since they honoured his name.

Bill Porter, Jim Dalton are others we know,

Then rivalling Peel there came Bowman – Old Joe.

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho,

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho,

 

On t’North side there’s t’Eskdale, wi Porter’s son, Jack,

Harry Hardisty’s proud of his laal Melbreak pack,

Geordie Bell hunted t’Cathra for many a year,

Johnnie Richardson now keeps those foxes in fear,

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho.

 

And when Bowman retired, they engaged a new lad

As Ullswater Whip – and he hasn’t done bad.

He’s stayed 40 years and he’s still going the rounds,

So here’s to Joe Wear and his Ullswater hounds,

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho,

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho.

 

We next come to one who to hunting was born,

He’s the fourth generation to carry the horn.

Anthony Chapman’s the name, as I hardly need say,

And how those Coniston hounds love his “Hoo git away”.

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho,

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho.

 

So there’s yan laal pack left, hunting plain open fell,

And whose foxes are apt to go straight-necked to hell,

But Walt Parkin’s young pack has caught up with the rest,

And the Lunesdale can now hold its own with the best.

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho,

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho.

 

 

So back to my toast to this greatest of sports,

Here’s to hunters and hounds – and spare Renyard a thought.

May we follow the horn till it’s our turn to die,

And if St. Peter has hounds he will hear us all cry

Tally-ho, tally-ho, tally-ho,

Hark forrad, good hounds, tally-ho.

 

 

D.P. Todd 1950’s

 
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