THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. 53 



punt, and passed over in the direction of 

 Marston, hoping to devote an hour or two to 

 study in the quiet meads of that hamlet, near 

 the charming slopes of Elsfield, or in the 

 deeper and more secluded haunts of Shotover 

 Wood. But before he had reached Marston a 

 milkman met him with a terrier — such an 

 animal as Russell had as vet onlv seen in his 

 dreams ; he halted, as Actaeon might have done 

 when he caught sight of Diana disporting in 

 her bath ; but, unlike that ill-fated hunter, he 

 never budged from the spot till he had won 

 the prize and secured it for his own. She 

 was called Trump, and became the progenitress 

 of that famous race of terriers which, from that 

 day to the present, have been associated with 

 Russell's name at home and abroad — his able 

 and keen coadjutors in the hunting-field. An 

 oil-painting of Trump is still in existence, and 

 is, I believe, possessed by H.R.H. the Prince 

 of Wales ; but as a copy, executed by a fair 

 and talented artist, is now in my possession, 

 and was acknowledged by Russell to be not 

 only an admirable likeness of the original, but 

 equally good as a type of the race in general, 

 I will try, however imperfectly, to describe the 

 portrait as it now lies before me. 



In the first place, the colour is white with 

 just a patch of dark tan over each eye and 

 ear, while a similar dot, not larger than a 



