Hunting the Wild Stag, 6 J 



shame many a feather weight, so admirably mounted 

 and so iron-nerved is this fine specimen of om' EngHsh 

 squires ; men who are not to be matched in any 

 quarter of the world for their love of sport and their 

 liberality in pro\dding for the pleasures of others less 

 fortunate in the possession of worldly goods, who are 

 enabled to indulge in the manliest of all sports, which 

 is so readily provided for them at great cost and 

 trouble by our masters of hounds. 



On arriving at Cloutsham Ball we find a large 

 assemblage of country folks in carriages, farmers in 

 their waggons, and ladies and gentlemen on horse- 

 back, all bent upon enjoying a pleasurable outing, 

 but Avhose comfort is considerably diminished on this 

 occasion by the frequent heavy storms of rain that 

 blurr the landscape, and destroy the beauty of the 

 scene. Nevertheless, we pic-nic heartily, champagne 

 corks fly, pigeon pies are devoured, cherry brandy is 

 freely taken as an antidote to cold, and thus we bid 

 defiance to the elements. Then, whilst we are 

 revelling in the good things so abundantly provided, 

 and so freely dispensed by our friends, " Arthur," with 

 five couples of hounds — tufters as they are called — 

 accompanied by Miles, " the Harbourer," whose 

 vocation it is to track the deer, and be ready to point 

 out to the huntsmen where he will find " a runable 

 stag," is drawing the cover. A considerable time 

 elapses before there is a find, and an opportunity is 

 afforded of observing some of the notabilities of the 

 Devon and Somerset Hunt, and the visitors of dis- 

 tinction who flock fi-om all parts to enjoy the first 

 day's sport. 



Conspicuous amongst the crowd is the celebrated 



