THE LIFE OF A FOXHOUND. 117 



" Ugh ! " said I, disgusted at the thought. 



* * Does not that prove what I say ? ' ' asked 

 my companion. ** We pass her continually in 

 going out and coming in, and yet not one of 

 us ever thinks of making a meal of her. But 

 if the fox was our natural food, we couldn't 

 help doing so, and the first opportunity that 

 presented itself she would be digested 

 victuals. ' ' 



'* But, perhaps, the fear of getting a good 

 drubbing may operate as a check to the 

 inclinations of others," observed I. 



** If that were the case," replied he, " how 

 is it that the hounds, which occasionally come 

 home by themselves hungry, never make the 

 slightest attempt to injure her? Nothing 

 would be easier than to kill and eat the 

 fox without the smallest risk of being 

 discovered." 



** There's great force in your argument," I 

 remarked. 



'* I flatter myself that there generally is," 

 returned the egotistical old hound. " Now, 

 look at a cat with a bird," he resumed, " the 

 cases are very different. Whether the bird is 

 wild or not — let it be on the tree or in a cage — 

 she will be equally disposed to make it her 



