322 THE HUNTING FIELD 



can console ourselves with the thoughts that it is 

 seasonable — that as we must have it, it is better to 

 have it at the right time, and be done with it — that 

 the horses want rest, and we draw our chairs round 

 the fire, and look forward to resuming the field with 

 redoubled zeal. 



But a March storm, while it checks hunting and 

 blights all our floricultural hopes and expectations, 

 presents no bright prospect in view. Go when it will, 

 hunting, we feel, cannot return, at least not in the 

 genuine, natural, other half of the thing, sort of 

 way. 



The only consolation about a March storm — at 

 least one late on in the month — is that they never 

 last. They are like frosts in November, which are 

 sometimes uncommonly keen and iron-bound at night, 

 and yet extremely wet and sloppy in the morning. 

 When a March storm gets the turn of its complaint, 

 it generally subsides very fast. A day of cold, bitter, 

 blustering storm will be succeeded by one of balmy 

 sunshine, that melts the snow in half the time it takes 

 in the earlier months. So it was this year, though 

 snow-wreaths might be seen on the higher grounds 

 in the month of April. Strange to say, April was 

 a better hunting month this year than March. It 

 was wet, and cold, and splashy enough in all 

 conscience. 



The season, so prosperous during its continuance, 

 closed, we are happy to say, with fewer drawbacks 

 and derangements to future foxhunting than generally 

 attends the finish of each year. As some advertising 

 tradespeople are always dissolving partnership, or re- 

 tiring from business to get in their debts, so some few 

 hunts brought their " stock " to market, most likely 

 for the purpose of weeding the studs or of getting 

 parties to "buck up" in the way of subscription. 

 These objects being accomplished, the " firms " re- 

 sumed business, in some cases, perhaps, with a change 



