HARRIERS AND BEAGLES 281 



what was taking place. It was not until the hare 

 turned abruptly and went through the fence on the far 

 side of the lane that hounds ever attempted to go 

 through the first fence. 



The trouble with these little hounds was that their 

 owner, who suffered greatly from gout, used often to 

 come out in a dog-cart, and at times he would attempt 

 to hunt them from this position. He had a quick eye 

 to a hare, and would bustle his cob along a by-road 

 and often get in front of hounds. If he happened to 

 view the hare over the road, out would come his horn 

 — he dearly loved a blow — and hounds' heads would 

 be taken from their noses. Hares were often lost when 

 their enthusiastic owner cut off his pack, but it made 

 no matter, as the field was seldom more than half a 

 dozen strong, and the little hunt was quite private 

 and unobtrusive. A tall, elderly, and angular Scotch- 

 man named Graham was kennel huntsman, and the 

 queerest old hound-van ever seen was frequently used, 

 and when it rained we have known hounds, huntsman, 

 and the entire field to return inside this van — which 

 at such times developed an extraordinary atmo- 

 sphere. 



Another quaint hunt, as regarded some of its 

 customs, was that maintained for some years in the 

 Isle of Anglesey by Henry, the fourth marquis of the 

 line. Always a bit of a dandy, this particular Lord 

 Anglesey was a keen sportsman, who hunted, raced, 

 coursed, and last of all kept a pack of beagles. These 

 were just as good as could be got in the eighties, 

 and the sport they showed was first-rate, the country 

 being open and well adapted for harehunting. But 

 there was a comic side to the hunt, which was chiefly 

 supplied by the noble owner. As far as costume was 



