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could ride like a bird, and was always in his proper place. 

 Alas ! Mr. Musters' brilliant pack are no longer the 

 Quorn. After three seasons, in which they have shewn 

 themselves possessed of all those qualities preeminently 

 needful for the Shires, they are now about to return to 

 Nottinghamshire, where Mr. Musters resumes his old 

 country. No hounds in the world could beat them to 

 fly on a good scent, every single hound greedy to lay 

 hold of it. Carrying it before them without one idler 

 to take things for granted, they would spread themselves 

 out, so that the sharpest turn seldom threw them at 

 fault. And, with all their dash and eagerness, it was 

 especially notable that they never allowed themselves to 

 flash a yard over the line, or even to strike forward in 

 hopes of picking it up again beyond the point to which 

 they had brought it — so common a weakness o£ courage 

 and excitement. Of course it has sometimes happened 

 that they have been determinedly driven over the line 

 by the impetuous, thoughtless crowd behind them, but 

 often have I seen them, when running hard, spread 

 right and left the moment they missed the guiding per- 

 fume from their nostrils, then, circling round again, 

 take it up in front, and dash ofl" once more with equal 

 vigour. Tor actual pace in a burst, it is a question if 

 even the Belvoir could compare with them ; and yet they 

 never forgot the lessons in steady hunting they had 

 learnt in the colder land of Nottinghamshire. The great 

 difficulty they had ever to fight against was the over- 

 grown size of the Quorn fields — fields composed of every 

 variety of element, the genuine by no means predomin- 

 ating on all occasions. For instance, the huge cavalcade 

 that troops forth to join the chase whenever it is fixed 

 for anywhere in the neighbourhood of Leicester or 

 Loughboro', is indeed an incongruous one ; though, true, 



