l6 FOXES AT HOME. 



gorse which lined the path, and crouched 



amongst the naked stems close to where I stood. 



" Ah ! there she hes ; how close ! She pants, she doubts 

 If now she Hves ; she trembles as she sits ; 

 With horror seized." 



The hounds overshot the mark, but soon 

 returned and drew the gorse carefully up and 

 down, passing close to where the hare lay, 

 partly concealed under some withered bracken ; 

 one of the best hounds in the pack actually ran 

 her nose along one of the stems, within a few 

 inches of the hare, and then passed on. Seeing 

 hounds could make nothing of it, I eventually 

 went into the gorse and poked the hare with 

 my whip, for doing which a lady who was 

 present called me a horrid, heartless, beastly 

 cruel 7vretch ! The hare was quite dead and 

 stiff, and all scent had suddenly ceased with the 

 poor little animal's life. 



" Stretched on the ground she lies, 

 A mangled corpse, in her dim glaring eyes 

 Cold death exults, and stiffens every limb." 



And yet, although I have hunted them myself 

 for many years, and thought it splendid sport 

 and the perfection of hound work, I now almost 

 agree with the lady. 



" Poor is the triumph o'er the timid hare." 



