FARMER STUBBINS' OPINION OP LORD MERVYN. 67 



and although possessing a large circle of acquaintances, friend- 

 ship or love were to him unknown. 



It being impossible to dispel the gloom and formality which 

 presided at the breakfast-table (a misnomer, indeed, as far as 

 his guests were concerned, who had breakfasted at home), where 

 everything remained untasted, save a few glasses of liqueurs, a 

 proposal was made by Beauchamp to commence the business of 

 the day, as a large company had assembled in front of the castle, 

 more from curiosity to watch the proceedings of this eventful 

 clay (the first on which the hounds had ever been invited to 

 grace the lawn of Marston Castle) than from any expectation of 

 sport. 



" Ah, here he comes at last," exclaimed old Farmer Stubbins 

 as Lord Mervyn appeared at the hall-door, "with his long lantern 

 jaws and vinegar looks, enough to turn a pan of new milk ; but 

 I be' ant to be gammoned, if the gentlefolk be. I wouldn't take 

 sup nor bite at his board, for fear of being poison'd or choked ; 

 dang it, neighbour Stiles, he's a bad un ! " 



" Ay, ay, Stubbins, there's not much doubt about that ; but 

 there's something in the wind now — election time's drawing on 

 again, so my lord is playing a new game — courts the red coats 

 and the fox-hunting farmers this time ; but 't won't do, Mr. 

 Stubbins." 



" 'Tis no use his courting me, Mr. Stiles, for I'll never vote 

 for kith or kin of his ; but I say, neighbor, where' s • the ould 

 squire ? doant see his face here, I'll warrant — ould birds bean't 

 caught wi' chaff." 



" Nor young uns, neither, Stubbins, of that family ; for the 

 young squire looks as if he'd been swallowing summut as don't 

 sit very light on his stomach this morning. But there, you see, 

 being master now, and manager of the pack, he is obliged to be 

 civil to all parties, to keep things together ; and nobody can 

 blame him for trying to make friends with my lord there ; but 

 a man half blind can see it goes all against the grain." 



Lord Mervyn' s shooting cob being brought to the door, the 

 hounds were trotted off to Marston Wood, which was almost 

 alive with game, hares and rabbits scurrying across the drives 

 by scores, and pheasants whizzing up into the air in all direc- 

 tions. Not a whimper, however, was heard from a single 

 hound, as the pack dashed through the underwood, with the 

 whippers-in in close attendance, to prevent any hares, which 

 might be chopped, from being eaten. 



Soon a holloa was heard and repeated in one of the by- 



e 2 



