THE END OP THE SEASON. Ill 



in close attendance. They wisli to throw up, but self- 

 preservation is the first law of nature. They cannot stop 

 for their bodies to be reduced to the consistency of jelly 

 by the hoofs of the advancing force of cavalry. They 

 dash on for a field or so without a scent, and stop at last. 

 A cast forward is obviously useless, as the fox has not 

 gone that way ; a cast back, where the animal really has 

 gone, is equally futile, the horses being all over it; so, by 

 the combined exertions of Messrs. Funker and Crasher, 

 a good run is spoiled, the fox escapes, and the real authors 

 of the mischief, as they trot amicably along together, 

 agree in pronouncing the huntsman a mufi*, the master an 

 old woman, and the hounds a lot of useless brutes, fit 

 only to be treated as the poor London street curs were 

 last summer, viz., sold by the ton for manure.* This is 

 another digression though, and unpardonable, as no one 

 wants to think, much less talk, about hunting at this time 

 of year. 



By this time most hunters have had a month^s rest, 

 which, with the assistance of a mild dose of physic where 

 it is requisite (and this is in forty-niue cases out of every 

 fifty), will have reduced their legs to a condition in which 

 damage done to them by their late labours will be easily 

 detected. I always have found it sound economy to have 

 my horses inspected at the end of the season by a 

 veterinary surgeon. The professional eye will detect 

 injuries which that of the amateur is likely to pass over. 

 Still, if the professional be not accustomed to hunters and 

 the ailments peculiar to them, he will not be able to tell a 

 good hunting groom very much, particularly as the groom 

 knows the constitution, and, at any rate, some of the past 

 history of his horse. There are a number of injuries to 

 * Written in 1869. 



