400 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



To turn to the day and its sport. Monday was warm and 

 still, by no means the two most insignificant attributes of 

 a hunting day. We only go out in a brisk North-Easter 

 because it is a duty ; because other fools besides ourselves are 

 ashamed to stay at home ; because, forsooth, Ave are restless ; 

 because we have a horse fit to go, and every day's hunting costs 

 on a very moderate calculation at least a tenpound note ; 

 because, perhaps, our new habit (with, of course, a waistcoat 

 entirely novel in colour and original in cut) has just come 

 down — anything, in short, but because it is joyful and amusing 

 to seek sport in a wind that completely bars it, and that 

 pinches and pierces us till we could cry aloud. Yes, Monday 

 was altogether pleasant — at least, so it seemed to one who for 

 many weeks had looked vainly, wistfully, now and again even 

 bitterly, towards a saddle as a starving man might towards a 

 throne. The air may possibly have been heavier and warmer 

 than horses could inhale with freedom ; for after twenty 

 minutes' galloping they panted and perspired remarkably. 



The meet was Preston Capes, but no fox was roused until 

 well after midday. The Fawsley estate is widespread ; and 

 so are its foxes, after being industriously looked up by two 

 packs of hounds for four months past. But they are there 

 even if odd nooks and corners have now to be sought out. As 

 I have noted before, the presence of hounds in this neighbour- 

 hood puts a very severe tax upon — no, that is not the term, 

 oives a thorough oiling to the machinery of — agriculture. It 

 takes all the grating, all the roughness, off a week's labour ; 

 and the wheel of work runs much smoother and happier on the 

 other five days in consequence. There was a cluster to-day on 

 the hilltop between Woodford and Charwelton that might 

 suo-o-est anything between a prize fight and a statute fair (by 

 which we of Northamptonshire understand the ancient festival 

 of Mops, and accept it as one of the rites instituted and 

 bequeathed by the Danes ; but which the outside world, who 

 know nothing of hiring servants in the market-place, believe 

 to be a mere fable of the past). Nor were they gathered in 



