4 "HOUNDS, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE!" 



drive are, we all know, apt to overrun a scent ; here 

 on this particular ground, where the strong, fresh, 

 heel-line overlays the still warm line of his flight,* it 

 is no wonder that with even more dash than usual 

 they carry on far beyond where Reynard stopped and 

 turned. If there is a man in the field ploughing in 

 front of him, a shooter, or one taking his walks 

 abroad, the huntsman sees at once what is the mat- 

 ter ; but many an object he wots not of, a strange 

 shadow on a fence, a bit of white (probably a cow in 

 the next field) showing through the hedge, may be 

 suspicious to the eye of a hunted fox, and he will 

 turn back for awhile. 



Now, if only the motionless huntsman were in the 

 field alone, and if his darlings were of the right sort, 

 round they would come with a systematic swing, and 

 it would require no holloa to tell him which way 

 the fox had gone. When such a check occurs is the 

 moment for the sportsmen who watch and care for 

 hounds to distinguish themselves, to implore their 

 comrades not to go on, but to stand together and be 

 silent. But here they come ! The hounds have 

 checked, they see. " What a nuisance ! " " What a 

 pity ! " " What an awful bore ! " " Just as it was 

 getting jolly, too ! Always the way ! " " But, by 

 Jove ! can't they run ! And did you see what an awful 

 ender old Juggins came at the mearing fence ? ' 

 " That ass, Muggins, swore I crossed him ! " " Why, 

 you weren't within yards of him ! " " Hulloa ! what's 

 the matter with the old 'un ? " 



Here the M.F.H. makes a little brimstony sort 

 * Technically termed the " counterfoil." 



