172 NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 



that life is but a joke, and that the very wisest of us all are but pur- 

 suing bubbles which break in their flight. 



By an arrangement recently made* between the owners of them, 

 hounds are to be reached every day in the week, from either Dunse 

 or Kelso; and on Friday, November 28th, Major St. Paul met at Corn- 

 hill inn, within a mile of Coldstream, a place of which I have already 

 spoken; just ten miles from Kelso, and a very pretty ride, almost all by 

 Tweed side. On my arrival there with Mr. Callander, I saw symptoms 

 of a large attendance of sportsmen, which indicated a good opinion of 

 the fixture. The stables were full of hunters which had arrived on the 

 previous evening from Dunse, and other places ; and calls for " breakfast" 

 resounded throughout the inn, for those who had arrived from afar. In 

 fact there was note of preparation, not for war, but for business. 



A little after ten o'clock, Major St. Paul arrived with his hounds, 

 which looked in very excellent condition. The same might have been 

 said of a very Englishman-like looking person who accompanied him, in 

 a drab great coat, buttoned up to his chin, but not an inch of the "pink" 

 to be seen, even at the skirts. '* How are you ?" said St. Paul to me ; 

 ** How are youV said I. *' How are you?" said the other; *' How are 

 youV^ said I, — with a familiar nod of my head, in answer to a familiar 

 nod of his head. Now, until he peeled to the pink, I was quite uncon- 

 scious of whom I was addressing — that it was Lord Frederick Fitz- 

 clarence, one of my King's sons ; so, yielding to no man in loyalty, I 

 thought it my duty to ride up to his lordship and explain. But those 



* The Duke of Buccleuch engaged to meet every Tuesday, and Major St. Paul 

 every Friday, within reach of Dunse aud Kelso. 



