322 



CHAPTER XXXII. 



THE FITZWILLIAM. 



It has been my privilege to see a great number of 

 different packs of hounds in the field — indeed, the 

 total approximates to three figures, — but there has 

 been none amongst them to compare, to my mind, 

 with the Milton hounds ; and I have often said I 

 would rather have a bad day with Barnard's mixed 

 pack — for the grandeur of the dog-hounds is such one 

 does not willingly lose it, even for the beauties of the 

 bitches — than a good one in some countries. Yet, 

 when I turn to what the Bad Boy called " dere 

 diary," I find that, living for three seasons in a 

 country bordering on the Fitzwilliam, and being 

 within half a dozen miles of their nearest meets, my 

 total number of days with this famous pack fails to 

 reach double figures ; and, alas ! there is not a real 

 good day amongst those nine. This, of course, is my 

 personal bad luck — the more so as on one day, when 

 everything looked promising, they w^ere shooting to 

 the north and to the south of the country we were in, 

 with the result that twice as soon as the hounds had 

 settled down to run really well, they had to be 

 stopped. So that probably the best, though certainly 

 not the most pleasant, day I put in with them was an 



