CHAPTER III. 



'■ Of all oleasures or pastimes ever heard or seen, 

 There's none in the world like to merry Hunting." 



— Old Hunting Song. 



" Marry I but these be hard laws, my master." 



— Old Pl.w. 



T) OSSENDALE has, from time immemorial, been a favourite 

 ■*-^ hunting-ground ; and there are, doubtless, still to be found in 

 the P'orest sportsmen as stout of heart and lithe of limb as ever 

 cleared dike or ditch in the blythe days of yore ; but alas ! the 

 • quality of the sportsman's game has woefully degenerated from its 

 pristine excellence. Gone from within its bounds is that right 

 royal brute, the stag ; the wild boar, the badger and the wolf have 

 given place to a civilisation which tolerates not their existence ; 

 even the wily fox has disappeared from its hill-sides, and no 

 thrifty house-wife now laments her spohated hen-roost. The 

 children's nursery rhyme records an incident which must have 

 been of common occurrence in Rossendale in times past, when it 

 states that — 



" Old Mother Widdle-waddle, jump'd out of bed, 

 And out of the window popped her head : 

 Crying ' John ! John 1 John ! the gray goose is gone, 

 And the Fox is away to his den, 01'" 



But Reynard has sought regions more favourable to his depre- 

 dations. The timid hare alone remains to kindle the huntsman's 

 enthusiasm, and wake the " vollied thunder " of the eager pack. 



" The Deans of Whalley, like other ancient and dignified 

 Ecclesiastics, were mighty hunters, and enjoyed the right of 



