220 MEMOIR OF 



And for that very reason, no man in the 

 world was ever more loved by hounds than 

 Russell himself. "It isn't the man," as he 

 rightly maintained, " who feeds the hounds whom 

 they most like ; but the man who opens their 

 prison door, lets them out of kennel, and says, 

 ' There, go forth and enjoy your liberty ; ' and 

 then helps them in their work." 



On one occasion, owing to the inveterate 

 opposition he met with from a great landed pro- 

 prietor, whose tenants and keepers were ordered 

 to kill foxes over the whole extent of his wide 

 domain — a difference in politics being the chief 

 gravamen — Russell once more came to the 

 conclusion that, for the sake of peace, he would 

 give up his hounds, and again he parted with 

 a large draft. 



Soon after this event he met Sir John 

 Duntze, who, hearing what had taken place, 

 seemed loth to believe the unwelcome news. 

 "You can't live without hounds, Russell — I 

 know you can't," said the incredulous baronet. 

 "Now," I'll make you an offer; I'll give you 

 five pounds, if you'll give me one for every 

 year that you don't keep hounds." 



And Sir John was right ; for the following 

 season saw Russell reinforced with a strong 

 draft from the Hambledon, which, with old 

 Milliner and a few hounds of the Mercury 

 blood set him going again with renewed vigour. 



