HEROES OF THE HUNTING-FIELD 135 



been hunting with me, and we ran over an unfor- 

 tunate line of country, the stag setting his head for 

 Isleworth, Twickenham, and Brentford. Lord Al- 

 vanley left us before I had taken the deer, in good 

 time to join his friends in the bay-window at White's. 

 They asked him " What sport ? " " Devilish good," 

 he replied ; " but the asparagus-beds went awfully 

 heavy, and the glass all through w^as up to one's 

 hocks. The only thing wanting was a landing-net; 

 for the deer got into the Thames, and Berkeley had 

 not the means to get him ashore. They say garden- 

 stuff is riz since they saw us among 'em." 



' Mr. Gunter, the renowned ice and pastrycook 

 in Berkeley Square, who was always one of my field, 

 was complimented by Lord Alvanley on the appear- 

 ance of his horse. " Yes, my lord," was the reply ; 

 " but he is so hot I can hardly ride him." " Why 

 the devil don't you ice him, then, Mr. Gunter?" was 

 the funny rejoinder.' 



' Osbaldestone is a name dear to the lovers of 

 fox-hunting. ''•' The Squire," as he was called, is too 

 well known, and his sporting feats are too familiar 

 to every ear, to need any eulogium from our humble 

 pen. But there was another Osbaldestone, whose 

 name every lover of hunting should aid in rescuing 

 from oblivion. With half a dozen children, as many 

 couples of hounds, and two hunters, this Mr. Osbalde- 

 stone, clerk to an attorney, kept himself, family, and 

 these dogs and horses, upon a salary of 60/. per 



