HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 37 



MR. KEMBLE. 



Mr. Kemble, of Runwell Hall, was one — 

 I may say the last — of the old country squires 

 in the county. I am at a loss to describe him as 

 he deserves. He was a thorough sportsman in 

 every sense of the word (the very name of his 

 house reminds one of hunting), and then he was 

 a most perfect gentleman. You have only to 

 read the fifteenth Psalm if you want to find the 

 truest description of the word. Always ready to 

 do a kindness to anyone, with a keen sense of 

 humour ; but his platform was the hunting field ; 

 he knew the game all round, a wonderful 

 knowledge of the country and the run of a 

 fox, enabled him to see the best of most runs. 

 He always had one or other of his daughters 

 with him, and their unselfish devotion to their 

 father earned the sincere admiration of every- 

 one. One afternoon the Hunt train was on its 

 return journey from Southminster. We were 

 packed in the carriage like sardines. The old 

 squire, according to his usual custom, was 

 taking home a basket of fish. We were grad- 

 ually alive to the fact that there was the most 

 horrid smell, and from no apparent cause. The 

 train began to slow up for Battlesbridge. Mr. 

 Kemble suddenly remembered his fish. It had 

 disappeared, and was nowhere to be found. His 

 disappointment was great. Besides fish there 

 was in the basket a couple of wild duck. The 

 whole company in the carriage were convulsed 

 with laughter when, on his getting up, there was 



