1 82 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 



least understand each other; and indeed all love him per- 

 haps the better for the trouble he has given them. When, 

 in the course of a year, say in April or May, the huntsman 

 comes to take him up, everybody is sorry to see him go. 

 This departure from the farm is another very important 

 and trying time in the life of a foxhound. When the 

 hounds arrive at the kennels, the master comes out to look 

 them over, and this day drafts all those who show crooked 

 legs, weak joints, coarse heads, throaty necks, weak loins, or 

 any other blemishes. Again pedigrees and memoranda are 

 consulted. Some doubtful puppies may have another trial 

 on account of pedigree or a particular fondness the master 

 may have had for the fathers or mothers. All the lucky 

 ones are kennelled by themselves, and the indolent, happy- 

 go-lucky days of puppyhood are at an end. The stern 

 routine of the life of a foxhound has begun. A disconso- 

 late set the puppies are at this time. Some refuse to eat 

 until starvation finally drives them to it. Homesickness 

 actually is so great in some that they pine and die of it. 

 Some grow morose, and quarrel and fight and even kill each 

 other. Such fights never fail to bring the huntsman to the 

 door, and the offenders feel the sting of his double thong in 

 a way they will be a long time forgetting. Altogether 

 their treatment now is a very different thing from what 

 Mrs. Farmer used to give them. The poor brutes wish, 

 no doubt, they had been drafted with the rubbish. With 

 harsh words and continual correction, confined day and 

 night in a small room, obliged to sleep on hard wooden 

 benches — no wonder if they feel like felons. Once a day 

 some one comes to the door and drafts them into the 



