6 TETE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 



protection of an old hound called Trimbush, 

 and the favourite one in the pack. He had 

 been hunted six seasons, and, as may be 

 supposed, was awake to every wrinkle. 



" Hounds, like men," said he, one day, as 

 we stretched ourselves together in the shade of 

 a large chestnut-tree overhanging the court, 

 *' should first learn their duties, and then 

 perform them. Now, young-un, I've taken a 

 fancy to you," continued he, giving me a 

 playful flip with the tip of his stern ; ' ' and if 

 you follow my advice you will save yourself 

 many a stinging cut from our Whip's double- 

 thong. He hits terribly hard, I assure ye." 



" Does he? " replied I, believing, in my 

 innocence, that such a good-tempered, laugh- 

 ing fellow would scarcely brush a fly from our 

 hackles. 



" So you'll say,** continued my friend, 

 " when you've tasted it." 



" But I mean to avoid flogging," I 

 rejoined, " by obeying orders.'* 



" Pooh, pooh," returned Trimbush, testily. 

 ** Intentions are good enough; but a fig for 

 orders when the blood's up ! I don't always 

 obey them myself, old as I am. However, as 

 you haven't yet viewed a fox, it's no use my 



