VII 



HE RE hangs in the drawing-room of 

 Skelton Castle, in Cleveland, a 

 picture of Hey wood Hardy's, which 

 illustrates to the full that artist's wonderful 

 power in combining the life and colour of a 

 sporting subject with the poetry of English 

 scenery. We are accustomed to many 

 varieties of hunting pictures, but how few 

 are worthy of the painter's art. There is a 

 dreadful family likeness amongst them so 

 many pink-faced sportsmen in tall hats and 

 vermilion coats, so many white pairs of 



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