LETTER VII. 75 



other, we don't get on quite so well as we thought, and 

 we want you out again." Although not much flattered, 

 I thought it necessary to make my appearance as soon 

 as possible, and I did so immediately I could sit in the 

 saddle. My first fixture was to draw some rather large 

 woods, where there were plenty of foxes, and I was most 

 cordially greeted by my expectant friends once more at 

 the covert side, all so glad to see me. *' How do ye do, 

 old fellow — hope you're all right — can't do without you?" 

 and all that sort of trash. I am too old a bird to be 

 caught with chaiF. We soon found, and had a brace or 

 leash of foxes on foot. For the first twenty minutes or 

 so tlie hounds rattled away as usual, but after that I saw 

 two or three at a time stand out in the rides, when they 

 came to a momentar}^ check, and look about. As soon 

 as the ground was rather foiled, more did the same thing, 

 and presently the whole body came to a stand, with their 

 heads well up. Then a halloo from Jem — at it again for 

 a short time; then a scream from somebody else — to him 

 again ; so the thing went on for nearly an hour, and, I 

 must confess, I was as sulky as a bear with a sore ear. 



There were the same hounds in appearance I had been 

 so proud of only a month before, and what were they 

 then ? Jem took pretty good care to be out of hearing 

 distance, but I met with him at last. Just as I did so, 

 another halloo from the top of the covert. " There, 

 Sir," he said, "he is gone away at last." "No," I 

 said, " he is not, at least not my fox, and now one word 

 with you. I am huntsman to-day, not you ; now mind 

 what I say. The hounds shall not leave this covert until 

 you hear my horn outside. They shall go to no halloa 

 but mine, if ten foxes break covert ; they shall be stopped 



