] 78 FOX-HOUNDS. 



excellence, and the scarlet mob who rush, and race, and 

 lark from and back to Leamington and Cheltenham. 

 For seeing a good deal of sport in a short time, the 

 Fitzwilliam is certainly the best, within a hundred miles 

 of London. You have a first-rate pack, first-rate hunts- 

 man, a good scenting country, plenty of foxes, fair 

 fences to ride over, and though last not least, very cour- 

 teous reception, if you know how to ride and when to 

 hold your tongue and your horse. 



My fortunate day with the Fitzwilliam was in their open 

 pasture, Huntingdon country. ' My head-quarters were 

 at the celebrated " Haycock, " which is known, or ought 

 to be known, to every wandering fox-hunter, standing as 

 it does in the middle of the Fitzwilliam Hunt, within 

 reach of some of the best meets of the Pytchley and the 

 Warwickshire, and not out of reach of the Cottesmore 

 and Belvoir. It is much more like a Lincolnshire Wolds 

 farmhouse than an inn. The guests are regular habi- 

 tues ; you find yourself in a sort of fox-hunting club- 

 house, in a large, snug dining-room ; not the least like 

 Albert Smith's favourite aversion, a coffee-room; you 

 have a first-rate English dinner, undeniable wine, real 

 cream with your tea, hi a word, all the comforts and 

 most of the luxuries of town and country life combined. 

 If needful, Tom Percival will provide you with a flyer 

 for every day in the week, and you will be sure to meet 

 with one or two guests, able and willing, ready to canter 

 with you to cover, explain the chart of the country, and, 

 if you are in the first year of boots and breeches, show 

 you as Squire Warburton sings, how " To sit down in 

 your saddle and put his head straight. " 



The meet, within four miles of the inn, was in a park 

 by the side of a small firwood plantation. Punctual to 

 a minute, up trotted Sebright on a compact, well-bred 



