88 Seventy Years a Blaster. 



could make a trot. I am fearful we shall hear some 

 fatal news to-morrow, for horses were lying about in all 

 directions.' 



"We then examined the head, and found it was 

 more like a wolf's than a fox's, with a pair of jaws like 

 a mantrap." 



The mask of ^'Mr. Lloyd" is still 

 treasured. 



I must not mention who the Master was 

 who was one day looking over Bob Ward's 

 pack, and making remarks on certain hounds. 

 He came at length to one of Bob's particular 

 old favourites. 



" I don't like her a bit, Bob," he said. 



'' Nor do the Foxes," old Bob replied. 



One very sharp winter we were stopped for 

 weeks. Bob Ward came down to my place 

 one afternoon, and I fetched one of my horns 

 and we went down to the river. There each 

 of us took a turn at blowing, just for a little 

 practice, and also, perhaps, with some idea of 

 teasing the enemy. I fear that the foxes must 

 have felt very uncomfortable, for we made the 

 sound of the horn echo and re-echo from the 

 hills all over Sandy Warren. 



