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The Cattistock Hunting Song - Folk from the Boat - Episode 133
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This week Anna is joined by Paul Hutchinson on accordion for The Cattistock Hunting Song (The Old Bitch Fox) as she moves her boat.
In Cattistock parish in fair Dorsetshire,
Liv’d a pack of fox-dogs I’ll vow and declare;
‘Twas a pack of fox-dogs that would make the woods ring,
They was fit to be hunted by my lord, duke or king.
With my chivy, chivy-o, my I-ran-tan-ta-ro,
Sing fol-le-did-dle-ol-dol, ol-le-dol-lol-li-day.
The holes all being stopp’d that she could not get in,
She thought to herself that she soon would be kill’d,
She did wish with her heart she were under some ground,
Where neither huntsman, whipper-in nor the hounds could be found.
Oh, she had not been hunted but a half-hour or more,
Before that she thought she’d be forc’d to give o’er,
But as she being so cunning, so crafty and sly,
She mounted a house that was three storeys high.
Then in came Miss Venus with her nimble eye,
She thought that bold Reynard was mounted so high;
She did wish with all her heart she could her down fetch,
But, ‘Oh no,’ said bold Reynard, for I’m out of thy reach.’
Then up rode Squire Farquharson on his lively bay,
He said that bold Reynard she should have fair play,
‘Come you, call off your hounds and you set her at large,
And if she’s not dead she shall have her discharge.
Here’s a health to Squire Farquharson where’er he might be,
And likewise the huntsmen, whipper-in and company,
We will drink their good healths with all our own heart,
Out of a silver tankard, full bumper or quart.
In Cattistock parish in fair Dorsetshire,
Liv’d a pack of fox-dogs I’ll vow and declare;
‘Twas a pack of fox-dogs that would make the woods ring,
They was fit to be hunted by my lord, duke or king.
With my chivy, chivy-o, my I-ran-tan-ta-ro,
Sing fol-le-did-dle-ol-dol, ol-le-dol-lol-li-day.
The holes all being stopp’d that she could not get in,
She thought to herself that she soon would be kill’d,
She did wish with her heart she were under some ground,
Where neither huntsman, whipper-in nor the hounds could be found.
Oh, she had not been hunted but a half-hour or more,
Before that she thought she’d be forc’d to give o’er,
But as she being so cunning, so crafty and sly,
She mounted a house that was three storeys high.
Then in came Miss Venus with her nimble eye,
She thought that bold Reynard was mounted so high;
She did wish with all her heart she could her down fetch,
But, ‘Oh no,’ said bold Reynard, for I’m out of thy reach.’
Then up rode Squire Farquharson on his lively bay,
He said that bold Reynard she should have fair play,
‘Come you, call off your hounds and you set her at large,
And if she’s not dead she shall have her discharge.
Here’s a health to Squire Farquharson where’er he might be,
And likewise the huntsmen, whipper-in and company,
We will drink their good healths with all our own heart,
Out of a silver tankard, full bumper or quart.
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