THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 57 



"but a cleanly picked skeleton." 



"I'm not surprised at his death, under the 

 circumstances," rejoined I; ** but to eat 

 him! " 



'* In my opinion," added Trimbush, ** that 

 was the most innocent part of the affair." 



" And how," said I, curious to learn 

 further particulars, " how did he taste? " 



" Take my word for it," replied the old 

 hound, in a tone and manner conveying much 

 conviction of the correctness of the assertion, 

 " take my word for it," repeated he, ** that 

 with a little broth, daintier food could not be 

 eaten." 



" Who was the first to discover the 

 remains? " 



" Our feeder," returned he. 



* * And what did he say ? ' ' 



" Well! " added Trimbush, scratching an 

 ear with his off hind foot, as if tickled with 

 the reminiscence which the question created, 

 " I should observe, in the first place," con- 

 tinued he, " that Harry Bolton, our feeder, 

 was one of the coolest fellows that ever boiled 

 a copper of kit, and never known to exhibit 

 the slightest astonishment at anything. 

 Whenever he read an astounding piece of 



