ECHOES OF SPORT 



hills of the beautiful mistress of the world. 

 They say it takes seven years to know Rome, 

 but to love her takes but a ride or two over 

 her wonderful Campagna. 



My other hunting experiences abroad were 

 a * Arcachon, in the Jiauth tast of France. A 

 more artificial form of sport, but none the less 

 amusing. 



The quarry were bag foxes, though farther 

 into the forests they hunt the wild boar. 

 However, the distances were too far for us 

 women, particularly as a great feature of the 

 day was perpetually dismounting, and rider 

 and horse slithering down great sand dunes 

 like the side of a house. So our host would 

 tell us on his return, possibly he foresaw 

 having to continually help us on again ; any- 

 way he succeeded in discouraging his wife and 

 me from going boar hunting. 



There was quite a good pack of fox-hounds, 

 the kennels being about three or four miles 

 from Arcachon. 



The M.F.H. was very smartly turned out, 

 and was called Mattre d 'Equipages. The 



