BREEDING OF HUNTERS. 331 



nothing to the final slaughter ; and the poor victims 

 were replaced by fifty couple of Mr. Codrington's 

 hounds. 



But this gradual digression from the bays and the 

 chesnuts, into the world of the blue-pies and the red- 

 tans, gives warning that our horse-notes are exhausted 

 for the present. Be this as it may, it was with some 

 distant notion of a chapter on hunting, that we were 

 lingering lately near a meet, when a pert young 

 townsman, evidently "out for the day," rode up, 

 and determined at all hazards to make some remark 

 to the huntsman. 



" You'll not 'ave got all your dogs out, I fancy, 

 sir ?" he began. 



" No," was the curt reply of the latter, as he eyed 

 his man ; " thirty couple more at home." 



" Thirty couple more ! " was the rejoinder, " If 

 you'ad them all out, what an Bowling they'd make \" 



The grim disgust of the old huntsman, and the 

 satisfied smirk of the distinguished commentator, 

 formed a never-to-be-forgotten tableau. There they 

 sat eyeing each other, the breathing types of the 

 Tom Moody and the " little Tom Noddy" schools 5 

 and it was the strange contrast between the two 

 which first decided us to try whether we could not 

 collect some evidence as to the hounds and hunts- 

 men of the era, when the sport had just ceased to be 

 a mere home-spun drama, interspersed with " Bright 

 Chanticleer proclaims the dawn," and its jovial 

 Tantivy chorus, crackling logs in the ingle, sparkling 

 Diana Vernons, with an occasional Tony Lumpkin 

 for contrast, and chaplains who could find a hare- 

 form with much greater precision than the lessons 

 for the day. 



