22 THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 



out of the reach of the thong; although, as I 

 afterwards discovered, there was no fear of 

 being punished for a fault until it had been 

 repeated. Scarcely had I again turned into 

 the brake, when my friend Trimbush gave a 

 deep-toned note, announcing that a fox was 

 afoot. 



* ' Hoik to Trimbush ! ' ' hallooed the hunts- 

 man — "Hoik to Trimbush! " and, as a 

 bunch of hounds took up the cry, he added, 

 •' Hoik together, hoik! " 



Galloping on the line where three or four 

 couple of the knowing ones were feathering 

 their sterns and ringing their music, I for 

 the first time winded a fox. Anxious to 

 distinguish myself, I at once began making 

 more din about it than all the old hounds put 

 together. 



" Don't jingle your tongue as if you were 

 currant-jelly hunting," said Trimbush, con- 

 temptuously, as I joined his side. ** A 

 workman," continued he, '* never wastes his 

 breath with too much whistling." 



Feeling that there was truth in his chiding, 

 I changed my tone, and gave tongue only 

 when my friend did. 



That's right," remarked Trimbush, 



(i 



