THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 115 



After all had been washed, and each had 

 enjoyed a good tumble among the straw, 

 Mark summoned them to the feeding-room, 

 where a bountiful meal was ready for their 

 sharpened appetites. When this was finished 

 — and it did not occupy many minutes — they 

 were conducted to another lodging-house, so 

 that there might be no damp or chill remain- 

 ing from the wet straw in the one used as the 

 drying apartment. Nothing could be more 

 perfect than all the arrangements made for 

 our health and comfort, and yet, in them- 

 selves, they consisted of little more than a 

 simple method of doing that well, which 

 would have occupied quite as much time and 

 trouble in the end to do badly. 



** There," remarked Trimbush, with his 

 ribs sticking out as if they were well lined 

 within, " now I feel comfortable, and at 

 peace with all the world." 



Except the foxes in it," replied I. 

 Oh! " rejoined he, ** I have no enmity 

 towards them. It's the combined joy of 

 finding, running, and beating them, and the 

 pleasure of ' ' 



'* Eating them," added I. 



" Well ? " continued he, as if weighing the 





