THE HUNTSMAN 6i 



I come to beg a favour of your grace, that you 

 would let me take field money again ; for I have 

 not half the pleasure now in killing a fox that I had 

 before.' " 



After all is said and done, however, we come 

 back to the old opinion that hunting servants 

 are well worthy the consideration of the field, and 

 whether they are remembered in public or private 

 must just remain matter of taste. No master would 

 ever object either way, because it is the best testi- 

 mony of the field to the adequacy of their servants' 

 services. 



We are sorry to say that faithfulness among servants 

 is becoming a rare quality. By faithfulness we mean 

 not only that honesty which forbids their robbing us 

 themselves, but that integrity — that loyalty we may 

 almost call it — which ought to prevent their allowing 

 others to do it without telling. Strange as it may 

 seem, it is no less true, that their consciences seem 

 satisfied with the negative virtue of abstinence them- 

 selves. Dangerous virtue ! The next step to looking 

 on, is participating, and then comes robbing itself. 

 " Winking " at robbery is the true school of training 

 for New. South Wales. 



Whether this indifference to their master's interests 

 is to be attributed to the gad-about habits of the day, 

 or the spread of education and facility of communica- 

 tion by post, or arises from the distance now main- 

 tained between masters and servants, is immaterial to 

 the present inquir}^ Hunting servants, at all events, 

 have not the latter excuse for their delinquencies ; 

 and it certainly does favour the supposition that 

 masters and mistresses are not sufficiently attentive 

 and considerate to their servants, when we find that 

 those who are in constant contact with their masters, 

 enjoying their pleasures and sharing their dangers, 

 imbibe a certain interest and anxiety for them that 

 the mere payment of wages fails to produce. Hunts- 



