Run 1338

Sunday 30 October 2016

White Horse, Eaton Bray

Hares: Forking and Nik Nak


Your Hares for 1338

The pack spreads out

The hare toughs out ....

.... those bull warnings

Time for down-downs

Depth Charge takes his medicine

At least Blow Felt knows what's going on

The very handsome White Horse ...

... the other white horses

Peachers plots an escape

On to the ON INN

One of many number checks

FC caught bang to rights

The Count has a Hashit problem

A Dickens of a Run.

My co hare suggested I strum up a few words as to how the great writer and social critic would have interpreted this week's Hash.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness for those who had not moved the hands back on their grandfathers.

There is no month in the whole year in which nature wears a more beautiful appearance than in the month of October. Our religious advisor gave us a delightful Autumn morning, our master gave us Circle up and away to sally forth across our green and pleasant land. The harvested meadows shone in the morning dew that glistened on every leaf as it trembled in the gentle air: and the birds sang as if every sparkling drop were a fountain of inspiration to them.

FRBs may be seen hurrying back and forth but it was those who are content to ramble through the world in a pleasant dream that found the path around the church and onto ploughed fields. Soon overtaken, all parties bound for the same destination passed livestock and farm buildings through many gates and fresh cowpats, their good humour and jollity know no barrier – for the smell of hops in the air and the sight of On Inn on the ground took them back to the local hostelry.

The imbibing of host ales pleasured the thirsty, gifted your hares and awarded the nefarious. The very reverend Promptyexit dispensed a sermon to Squire SteamChuffer, Waterbomber, Mistress Spanker and Aplenty Tiddles to name a few. A mention must be spoke of a new highly admired Hashit head attire which was gratefully received by Earl Squashy of Hedgehog.

"Did you ever taste beer?" Promptyexit inquired. "I had a sip of it once" said Mistress Spanker. "Here's a state of things!" cried the RA "She never tasted it – it can't be tasted in a sip!"

Weekly income twenty pounds, weekly expenditure nineteen and sixpence, result happiness, and at the end of things Mr Blowers retired to his Counting House a happy hasher.

Farewell to the next gathering whence at the homestead of Edwina Drood, festivities will take place to honour an infamous Guy called Fawkes.

Please be greeting this notification with good thoughts by the hand of:

Lady Trinket of Fine Porcelain and Prince Pronged Dickie

God bless us every one!