Old Stories. 



my Lord's hounds or the Squire's, as was a'ter un : so 

 I told un it was most Hkely my Lord's, abin* the Squire 

 was out yesterday. Ah ! says he, I thought so : that's 

 just how 'tis : that's the reason why I can stop and 

 have a bit of chat with you ; abin, you see, when the 

 Squire is a'ter me, I never have no time to spare.' But 

 the remainder of the story records, with great impar- 

 tiahty, how Lord Craven got the laugh on his side at 

 last; for he killed the fox, and, on his return home 

 through Highclere Park, told the labourer that his 

 friend had staid chatting with him too long. 



I do not pretend to guarantee the truth of either of 

 these tales ; like the old minstrel, 



I cannot say how the truth may be, 

 I tell the tale, as 'twas told to me. 



But I have no doubt of the truth of the following 

 circumstances relating to Lord Stawell and his men, 

 for I had them from my father, who had hunted with 

 him, and whose accuracy might be depended on. 



Lord Stawell kept a capital pack of foxhounds, and 

 occupied the eastern and northern parts of the present 

 H. H. Country, together with some parts now hunted 

 by Mr. Garth. He resided in the Holt Forest, between 

 Alton and Farnham, but used to stay a good deal 

 with the last Duke of Bolton at Hackwood. He lived 

 to the year 1820, but had discontinued hunting a few 

 years before the end of the last century. 



His pack was exceedingly well managed. Harrison 

 the huntsman, and Sharpe the first whipper-in, were 

 excellent sportsmen, and worked well together. If 



* In my youth, the old Hampshire peasants still used the word 

 ' nhiv ' for ' becmise' 



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