HUNTING THE WILD FALLOW BEER. 431 



being hung by his stirrup), Mrs. Austin, Messrs. Blake, Taber- 

 nacle, Anstiss, Dallas, and Dickson ; and on the previous day 

 Hon. G. Lascelles (Deputy Surveyor of the Forest), Mr. Water- 

 house, Mr. Miles, &c. 



HUNTING THE WILD FALLOW DEER. 



Whan shaws been sheene, and shraddes full fayre, 

 Itt's merrye in the fayre forrest. 



And never is the greenwood merrier than when, in its first 

 greenness, it resounds to the horn, flashes to the passing pack, 

 and re-echoes to the cry. 



'Tis of to-day, May Day, I write — after hunting, after a long 

 journey by a dolesome train, after such slender supper as work 

 may warrant. The " Octagon Chamber " of my club is my 

 midnight refuge — where no one comes but to "play" a solemn 

 chess, to peruse a love story or meditate on his own, to com- 

 mune with fate, or court the solitude of the moment. Mine is 

 the last-named happiness, and I buckle to it cheerfully and 

 hurriedly — my theme the New Forest and its staghounds, vernal 

 scenery and the hunting of the deer, at a time when wood and 

 moor are beginning a new year and when most men are seeking 

 some new existence — frock-coated or binocular-bound perhaps 

 (it is hard to say how they divide themselves — for this is the 

 period of plans and changes, of medical advice may be, or ol 

 pecuniary thought, of labours resumed — the countryman's 

 Maytime, the idler's December as much as it is the city man's). 

 Read The Field and other authorities — there is no business in 

 life beyond the finding something to slay and how to slay it 

 properly, as behoves an Englishman and sportsman. Read the 

 Daily Parliamentary and Financial — all is strife and struggle. 

 Give me a few horses, some few books at home or accessible, 

 and a shilling in pocket for a gateway or for a sickly urchin, I 

 would far rather watch the spring proclaiming itself in green 

 leaf and young life than have it brought home only by bill of 



