174 NIMROD S HUNTING TOUR 



particularly good, and I might almost add that when we have seen a 

 few of his kennel we have seen them all. 



Mr. Nicoll looks like a true-born Englishman, w^ho is not ashamed 

 of his country — which is more than we can say of all we meet. 



As a master of fox-hounds I saw nothing in the least magisterial 

 or imperious in Mr. Nicoll in the field ; on the contrary, he was 

 polite and obliging to all. But where is the gold without alloy ? or 

 where is the man without a fault ? As well might w^e expect to see 

 the sun without light, or a mortal putting on immortality ! As a 

 companion, Mr. Nicoll is a man of great readiness of wit, and a 

 happy quickness in reply. One proof of the latter being as good as a 

 hundred, I take the liberty of giving the following. A well-mounted 

 man had one day been pressing so closely on his hounds, that nothing 

 but a Job could stand it any longer, and Mr. Nicoll bestowed upon 

 him a few hearty damns. The offender rode up to him, and said, 

 " Upon my word, Mr. Nicoll, I don't understand this, Sir! I did 

 not covie out to be damn'd ! " — " Then go home and be damn'd ! " 

 replied Mr. Nicoll. 



On my arrival at Sir Hussey Vivian's, I had the pleasure of finding 

 Sir Francis Burdett an inmate of his house. Sir Francis, like myself, 

 had never seen any hunting in the Forest, so had sent some horses 

 to Lyndhurst for the purpose. Like myself also, he had just 

 arrived from Leicestershire, wdiich had made the scene more 

 interesting by the contrast between the two countries, each so 

 celebrated in its way. Sir Francis, however, unfortunately went 

 home the day before w^e had the quick thing I have spoken of, which 

 on all accounts was to be lamented. 



As a public character and a statesman, Sir Francis Burdett is 

 known to almost all mankind, and I think I may say he is to all 

 mankind a friend. It is not for me, however, to eulogise him here, 

 but as a sportsman I may speak of him, and also as the sportsman's 

 friend. 



Sir Francis resides at Kirby Hall, a curious old family mansion 

 house, three miles from Melton Mowbray on the road to Leicester, 

 the park wall of which — apparently of great antiquity — runs parallel 

 with the road ; and all the lordship of Great Dolby — a capital country 

 to ride over — belongs to him. At Kirby are very excellent stables 



