SHROPSHIRE 215 



farmers who reside within the Hmits of his hunt ; and well he may. 

 I have ridden over the majority of our English counties, but never 

 did I meet such hospitable and jovial fellows as the Shropshire and 

 Staffordshire farmers." With them, "What will you drink? " is the 

 next question to "How do you do?" and, now and then, "What 

 w411 you drink?" comes first. Some of them, however, as Sir 

 Bellingham says, are "zealous dogs," particularly after a certain 

 hour of the day. 



The Baronet told me a good anecdote of one of those Shropshire 

 farmers. He was about as big as any two moderately sized men, 

 and was sitting on his horse in a covert, whilst the hounds were 

 running their fox very hard below him. " Noiv they are a physicking 

 on him," said he to Sir Bellingham, as he rode by, his countenance 

 sparkling with delight. 



On the 25th Mr. Mytton turned out a brace of bagmen before his 

 nondescript pack. I have before said, that a mere detailer of facts 

 is only fit to give evidence on a trial, and therefore I shall dilate as 

 I go on. 



On the evening before, as we were sitting over our wine, the 

 butler announced that Mr. Tinkler the stud groom w^as in waiting. 

 " Send him up," said Mr. Mytton, and Mr. Tinkler appeared. 



Tinkler — " What horses will be wanted to-morrow, Sir? " 



Mr. Mytton— "All." 



Tinkler — " No, Sir, not all surely! " 



Mr. Mytton — " Every one." 



Tinkler — "Not the little grey horse, Sir! His back gets very 

 narrow." 



Mr. Mytton — " So much the better. I hate a fat horse." 



Tinkler — "Not the brown horse you had from Sir Bellingham; 

 his legs begin to get very round." 



Mr. Mytton — " That is the very reason why I will ride him, as it 

 will make them fine." 



* The hospitality of Staffordshire quite equals Shropshire. I remember on 

 one occasion, when Mr. Mytton hunted that country, that a regular dinner was 

 provided for the field. There was white soup, patties, side dishes, &c. &c. I 

 also well remember how small the fences appeared when we were running our 

 afternoon fox. 



