SEASON OF 1914-1915 



It has always seemed to me that those hunting people who 

 never begin hunting until the regular season commences, 

 in November, miss half the delights of the game. Any- 

 thing that one gets real enjoyment from is worth a little 

 hardship; and it certainly pays in regard to hunting. 



It seems like getting up in the middle of the night the 

 first time one does it; but that good early morning smell; 

 the hack to covert in the dark; and the glorious music of 

 about thirty couples of hounds as they go swishing through 

 the wet grass; a field of only three or four out and all in 

 rat-catcher kit, and all with the same trend of thought! 

 Who is the "lay-a-bed" chap who says it does not pay.'' 

 He's never tried it; that's the reason he talks as he does. 



"But what a blessing it is," as my father used to say, 

 "that we all don't think alike." Otherwise, there would 

 be no nice small fields in August and September, and we 

 would not have that feeling, after a morning's cubbing, of 

 having sort of "put one over" on the other fellows. 



The present generation of sportsmen — and especially 

 the younger ones — are a bit prone to want their sport 

 made easy for them. Motors, too, have quite taken away 

 one of the most delightful parts of a day's hunting; that of 

 hacking to the meet and the hack home with a congenial 

 friend; a good pipe of tobacco and maybe a nip or two 

 from a flask; and, as Sabretache, in his "Pictures in the 

 Fire," says: 



"How often in riding to the meet have you met and 

 been greatly amused by overtaking a chap who evidently 

 had gotten out of bed that morning with the wrong foot 



