The Merry Past 



thong, " them's not our hounds, them's a flock of 

 sheep." 



A somewhat different type of squire succeeded the 

 old Westerns of the eighteenth century. In the 

 early years of the nineteenth there was many a plain 

 English country gentleman who, possessing full 

 ten thousand pounds a year, never left his seat, 

 unless he was called to his county town, or went to 

 visit his friends. 



The longevity of many of the old school of sports- 

 men was amazing. A striking instance of this was 

 Eleazar Ashton, who died in 1840 at the age of ninety- 

 eight. In his latter years Ashton was well known to 

 followers of the Hopwood Beagles, a little pack all of 

 about the same height — 15 inches — which up till 

 1838 had as huntsman another veteran, Jack Mathews, 

 who himself pursued his calling till past seventy. 



Eleazar Ashton attributed his health and long life 

 entirely to his love of following hounds, which he did 

 on foot. On the 12th of August, the opening day, 

 he went as usual to keep his ninety-seventh birthday 

 at Hopwood, walking three miles from his residence 

 at Dilsworth and back, and on that occasion his voice 

 and laugh were as strong and hearty as ever. In 

 October he was out two or three times with the 

 hounds when near his own house, but his powers 

 were then fast failing. Up to this season he was 

 always found at the place of meeting, his hands 

 upon the hook of a long hazel stick, on which he 

 rested his chin, with an admiring circle surrounding 

 him, the majority of whom were not infrequently 



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