18 THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 



I laughed heartily at Trimbush's acting a 

 fagged and beaten hound; and, although I 

 had not seen one at the time, I subsequently 

 learned that it was a very faithful representa- 

 tion. 



*' One would think, from that puppy's 

 gambolsome larking, ' ' observed the huntsman, 

 pointing to me, " that he knows what he's 

 going about." 



" Perhaps he do," sagely returned Tom 

 Holt. 



"How the devil should he? " rejoined 

 Will Sykes. *' Isn't this his first day's cub- 

 himting? " 



" Yes," added the first whip. *' But don't 

 you think them dumb animals have a language 

 of their own ? I'm blest if they don't almost 

 talk to us sometimes. ' ' 



"Hal ha! ha 1 " laughed Will Sykes. 

 " You're a pretty kind of a Christian, Tom. 

 I suppose, by-an'-bye, you'll say they sing 

 hymns. ' ' 



** I don't see why they shouldn't," replied 

 the imperturbable Tom Holt. " At least," 

 continued he, " if they don't, they're a sight 

 more sensible than many of those that do." 



" Come, come," said the huntsman, in a 



