REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN. 119 



stroyed every fox he could get near. I once run a cub 

 into his grounds and killed hira, and in the ditch of 

 the little plantation by which the hounds broke him 

 up there lay two of the same litter, shot, and their 

 brushes cut off. Now I know very well that there are 

 few men who will favour a sport, how much good 

 soever it may do to the country, if they enjoy it not 

 themselves, or who like to have their hen-roosts as- 

 sailed and their game taken by an animal that makes 

 them individually no return. When I say "few," 

 perhaps I am wrong ; " some men " would be nearer 

 the mark, for there are a great many, and ladies 

 among them, who, though they do not hunt, preserve 

 foxes. Still, when a man is not very fond of his 

 game, and has a hen-roost that foxes cannot reach, 

 I think his practice sharp when he murders cubs 

 with a gun, the master of hounds being able and 

 willing to kill them, even in Jul}^, if sent for. Mr. 

 Higgins had an old fat keeper who, among the farmers 

 and labouring people, went by rather an indifferent 

 nickname, who never went out after dark, and feared 

 his own shadow by moonlight, portly and unghost- 

 like as it was. This man, and there are hundreds of 

 men called gamekeepers that resemble him, lost all 

 his master's game by poachers and the smaller vermin, 

 and then laid their depredations on the fox. There 

 was no danger in attacking, taking, or killing a fox, so 

 this fellow concentrated all his hatred on that animal, 

 and cruelly punished it, as he would have done by the 

 poachers — if he dared. I have frequently run foxes, 

 from Yardley Chase once, and from other places often, 

 up to the premises of Turvey Abbey, and checked, the 

 hounds trying its very doors. Of course, knowing his 

 mood, and not wishing to find Mr. Higgins instead 



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