ii6 THE HUNTING FIELD 



stirrup, down to the yokel who looks " arter " old Miss 

 Frowsington's " one oss chay," digs the garden, 

 waits at table, milks the cow, washes the poodle, 

 cleans the parrot's cage, sweethearts the maid, and 

 makes himself generally useless and troublesome. 

 Grooms rank high in the scale of servitude, and 

 though in our fancy sketch of the Earl Marshal's 

 coronation procession we put house servants above 

 them, yet, if we were arranging them, we are not 

 sure but we would place Grooms immediately after 

 Huntsmen and kennel servants. We look upon a 

 Groom as a real useful article in an establishment ; 

 in our mind they rank equal with the cook in the 

 domestic department, and, like cooks, are of exceed- 

 ingly various orders of merit. We can't do without 

 a Groom, any more than we can without a cook ; 

 for though in our moments of high-horseish-ness we 

 may swear that we will clean our own horse or 

 cook our own dinner, rather than put up with the 

 impudence of a servant, still it is a feat that no 

 one would like to be constantly repeating. Grooms, 

 therefore, we say, are really useful people, and, like 

 the old story of the king and the basket-maker of our 

 childhood, rank before the ornamental " knights of 

 the napkin " and toilet. 



Of course in this our "Analysis of the Hunting 

 Field," the Hunting Groom is the one we have most 

 in our mind's eye, and to him we shall chiefly direct 

 our observations. 



A great change we imagine has taken place in the 

 whole style and system of hunting within the last 

 century, and everything appertaining to horses, 

 hounds, country, and riding, has undergone material 

 alteration. 



If we take an old map of a county, it looks like 

 a barren plain instead of the divided town dotted 

 populous region of the present day, and though in 

 riding over it we may be told that this is Thisselton 



