HUNTS WITH JOKROCKS 



'Well, it's nine 'underd and fifty thousand 

 petties/ muttered our master now that the last of 

 the stoopers had got up their heads, 'it's nine 

 'underd and fifty thousand petties that I hadn't 

 got close away at his brush, for I'd ha' killed 

 'im to a dead certainty. Never was a fox 

 better 'unted than that ! Science, patience, 

 judgment, skill, everything that constitutes an 

 'untsman Goodhall, himself, couldn't ha' done 

 it better! But it's not for mortals to com- 

 mand success,' sighed our now greatly dejected 

 master. 



Just as Mr. Jorrocks was reining in his horse 

 to blow his hounds together, a wild, shrill, view 

 holloo, just such a one as a screech-owl gives on 

 a clear frosty night, sounded through the country, 

 drawing all eyes to Camperdown Hill, where, 

 against the blue sky, sat a Wellington-statue-like 

 equestrian with his cap in the air, waving and 

 shouting for hard life. 



The late lethargic hounds pricked their ears, 

 and before Mr. Jorrocks could ejaculate the word 



88 





