THE ROYAL BUCEHOUNDS. 119 



ike dead leaves on the banks of the fences, the aconite 

 is in full bloom, and the hedgerows are ready to burst 

 forth the instant they are assured that there will be no 

 more frost. In fact, the country is only awaiting the 

 proverbial warm April showers to bring forth a pro- 

 fusion of wild blooms. Then the Thicket is reached 

 after a smart trot of eight miles, and the scene on arrival 

 is curious. From two to three thousand holiday folks 

 on foot, and in every conceivable vehicle, as well as a 

 host of horsemen on good, bad, and indifferent nags, 

 are assembled. Around the deer-cart stands a dense 

 mass of foot-people, anxiously awaiting the enlarge- 

 ment of the stag who is to provide sport on this 

 occasion. Stalls abound for the sale of sweets, juicy 

 oranges, cakes, and at the public-houses runs an 

 unceasing flow of ale ; and, to complete the picture, 

 and delight the multitude, the Twyford brass band 

 discourse music more or less sweet, adding to the 

 originality of the proceeding, for in my long ex- 

 perience in hunting the music has hitherto been con- 

 fined to the horn of the huntsman and the cry of the 

 hounds. All was mirth, jollity, and good-temper. 



Whilst waiting for the uncarting of the stag, I had 

 time to look around and notice some of the habitues 

 of the " Queen's," amongst whom were Lady Julia 

 Follett, Lady Herbert, Miss Ellis, Miss Pigott, 

 Mr. Crichell, Mr. Bowen May and his two sons, 

 Mr. Nevill, Mr. Sherley and his son Walter who is 

 a chip of the old block, and bids fair to be as good a 

 man across country as his father, for I observed him 

 put his horse at a stiff flight of posts and rails, and 

 afterwards at a tall fence, with much skill, pluck, and 

 judgment and Mr. Wise, jun. Amidst such a host 



