108 THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 



see the flyers with their heads up and sterns 

 down, and no more notion of stooping than a 

 flock of stray pigeons, flash a field or two 

 over the scent, and then back they turn and 

 follow the line-hunter in his cast, and the 

 moment he touches it, at him they dash, catch 

 it up, and away they race again. But who 

 gets all the praise? " continued the old 

 hound, " Why, those who did none of the 

 work." 



" The Squire would give the applause to 

 whom it was due, though," replied I. 



" Yes, yes, yes," rejoined my companion, 

 " and so would every true sportsman; but 

 where there is one who understands fox-hunt- 

 ing as a science, there are five hundred who 

 know no more about it than un-hatched torn 

 tits. There are foxes and circumstances," 

 continued he, " that will beat the best hunts- 

 man that ever cheered a hound or blew a horn ; 

 but in nine cases out of ten the cause lies in 

 not paying attention to the line-hunters. 

 Hang every line-hunter that was ever bred ! 

 Ha, ha, ha ! " and the old hound's laugh of 

 derision rung through the courts and lodging- 

 houses far and wide. 



"I am very glad you told me this," 



