Fox Hunting in the Sunn?/ South 41 



we have brought you." We were soon seated in the parlour, 

 the four clogs lying about ^Madam's chair. 



JNIadam was a fine and typical Southern lady, with a 

 queenly way and natural dignity enough for the wife of the 

 President of the United States. Her hair was grey but her 

 face was young. Altogether, she had the stamp and carriage 

 of a lady of great refinement and considerable culture. 



The conversation turned to dogs. Nellie Bly was the 

 favourite bird dog. She never flushed her birds, and was 

 also a good retriever. Sancho, a hound, was a first class dog 

 for trailing possum. He never told a lie. When he gave 

 tongue, you could depend a possum was on foot before liim. 

 Dixy was a splendid rabbit dog by day, and would run a 

 possum equally well at night. Jackson, a promising young 

 setter, was pardoned for many short-comings on account of 

 youth. 



Just as the history of this fourth dog was coming to an 

 end, the host arrived, and a little later we all went out to 

 luncheon. 



Colonel Thorpe, like his charming lady, was quite grey, 

 with a very military bearing, sharp, quick eyes that were full 

 of temper, a deep square-set jaw that gave the whole figure 

 the stamp of resolution and determination. He wore a black 

 frock-coat, no vest, slouched hat, riding boots and breeches. 

 His heavy grey moustache and small goatee, added to his 

 military carriage, made him look the real old war-horse he had 

 proved himself to be in the War of the Rebellion. 



Jim, a fine, big, up-standing negro, black as the ace of 

 spades, waited on the table. He wore a white short coat and 

 apron, and caned the meat at a side-board. The lunch con- 

 sisted of fried chicken, sweet potatoes, corn bread, rice 

 pudding and coffee for dessert. 



"Jim," said the Colonel after dinner, "Just go over to 

 Colonel Sacket's, and tell liim we're going for a fox hunt soon 



