Ralph Duckworth of the Wild Farm. 141 



handy, with a pistol-handled stock, and — wonder of 

 wonders — -flint-locked ! 



Quite delighted, away we went, and were lucky enough 

 to kill old Ralph his brace of birds almost immediately. 

 And exceedingly proud we are of being able to say that 

 once upon a time, in the course of our career, we have 

 shot game with a flint-gun. 



But it is in the hunting-field that Ralph is seen 

 at his best. He takes the same position amongst 

 those of his own class that Mr. Grimboy, hunting 

 with Lord Daisyfield (the Father of the Hunt), does 

 with the gentlemen, and lays down the law accord- 

 ingly. Like all great men, though, his proud position is 

 not altogether a sinecure, there being two Richmonds in 

 the field in the shape of a pair of elderly sportsmen, 

 named respectively Harry Goldacre, formerly huntsman 

 to the Old Harkaway, and old Joe Jollikins of Crabtree 

 Farm, in both of whose ancient bosoms lurked a long- 

 planted feeling of jealousy towards our friend of the Wild 

 Farm, which showed itself on every available occasion. 

 He achieved so great a triumph over them, though, on a 

 certain occasion not long ago, that we cannot help relating 

 it here. So decisive a victory was it indeed, and so 

 thoroughly did his great mind assert itself, that we doubt 

 very much whether his two rivals, crushed and pul- 

 verised as they were, will ever succeed in rivalling 

 '' Phoenix," and rise again. 



The hounds had just drawn a wood of moderate size — 

 some twenty or thirty acres perhaps — blank apparently, 

 and, leaving that, proceeded to draw another covert 

 belonging to the same owner, which was separated from 

 the former wood by only a narrow six-acre field ; the two 



