92 Hark Azuay. 



Devonshire, where I have been hunting the wild 

 deer and following the roe — coming home, in fact, in 

 order to be present on the first day of the season of 

 the Queen's — I am able to judge of the comparative 

 merits of the two styles of stag hunting. I can truly 

 say that, failing one, I can readily enjoy the other ; 

 and though it is delightful to see "the antlered 

 monarch of the waste spring from his heathery 

 couch in haste," and go a clinker across the track- 

 less wastes of Exmoor, yet I do not disregard the fact 

 that a gallop of an hour and a-half with the Koyal 

 Buckhounds over the Harrow country, from Polehill 

 to Pinner, Finchley, and Hendon, is good enough to 

 satisfy the most eager of sportsmen. 



It was not a sotitherly wind and cloudy sky — in fact 

 it was a bright, cold morning, Avith a keen north-east 

 wind blowing — as I stepped into the South-Western 

 Kailway — en route to the AVhite Hart Hotel at 

 Windsor. It is nearly half-a-century since I first 

 visited that best-conducted of all hotels. I like old 

 associations (also old port), and when I look back — 

 but that is running heel, and won't do to-day. 

 Having ordered a grey horse which had carried me 

 well on former occasions to be in readiness, and also 

 a substantial breakfast, which, by the way, was 

 better served than I have seen one for some time. 

 I started in a proper frame of mind to enjoy a day 

 with the Royal Buckhounds. 



Starting from the White Hart at ten o'clock, I 

 rode through Eton to Slough station in order to 

 meet a friend who was coming down by the special 

 from Paddington, which arrived to its time, bringing 

 no less than twenty-four horse-boxes, containing 



