Fox Hunting in New England 59 



honour to the neighbourhood and the marvel of all who know 

 them. 



After dinner we had a social feast talking horses and poli- 

 tics. Uncle Abner was at one time State Assemblyman and 

 his reminiscences of political fights were most interesting. 

 Said Uncle Abner finally, "If we are to go fox hunting to-mor- 

 row, we'd better get out the guns so as to be all ready for an 

 early start in the morning." 



While the old gentleman was getting down his guns and 

 ammunition, the kitchen door opened and in rushed two of the 

 grandest pointers one would wish to see. Uncle Abner hap- 

 pened to have a gun in his hand at the time, in fact it was our 

 talking gun or the smell of them that made these pointers push 

 their way in. 



They ran to Uncle Abner, smelt of the gun and then began 

 such a race about the house as would give a shooting man some- 

 thing to remember as long as he lived. The writer has seen 

 many bird dogs take on at the sight of a gun, but these two 

 pointers, Liver and Bacon, take the prize. 



They furled or double reefed every rug on the hardwood 

 floors, out through the hall into the parlour, back again into the 

 sitting-room, humping their backs and going like mad. The 

 writer laughed until he couldn't make a noise, while Uncle 

 Abner looked proudly on. 



"The hounds for fox hunting," explained Uncle Abner, 

 "we keep shut up down by the barn, as you know here in New 

 England, we loosen the hounds and then station ourselves 

 about as on runways for deer and shoot the fox as the hounds 

 drive him past. 



"We will go out with the hounds early in the morning, and 

 if we get anything by noon, we will come in and try the point- 

 ers on woodcock and quails. They (the pointers) have seen us 

 with the guns and they will be miserable if we do not take 

 them out." 



