56 HUNTING. 



are men in hunting costume, mounted on wiry, tough-looking 

 little horses, that seem hardly up to their riders' weights, which, 

 it must be admitted, testify to the good fare provided for their 

 lords by the Devon and Somerset housewives. 



So far all the early arrivals are worthy representatives of the 

 classes of yeomen and tenant farmers ; classes that, we trust, 

 will ever be represented at the cover side, where their ruddy 

 cheery faces and frank and independent manners contrast 

 agreeably with the blanched skin and reserved demeanour of 

 the visitors who have arrived in their tens to put the finish on 

 their sporting education, to restore their physical vigour squan- 

 dered in the metropolis, and to work themselves into condition 

 for six days a week in the shires during the following month. 

 It must be admitted that Arthur has a very critical assembly, 

 but we have confidence that the best horseman in the field, if 

 there be a run, will have to play the game of follow my leader ; 

 the lover of precision and dash will be compelled to applaud, 

 and the worshipper of close hunting will have nothing to com- 

 plain of. 



But where are the hounds ? They are in the farm buildings, 

 which are in the occupation of a keen lover of the sport. We 

 wish him good morning, hope that there is a stag at home, and 

 that he will give us ' the run of the season.' 



* There be a vine stag down along in the bottom ; and if 

 he don't give 'ee a vine run, he's eat my oats to no purpose,' is 

 the reply. 



But his lordship has come, so we feel that the business of 

 the day is drawing near. 



Arthur, his lordship, and the harbourer have a brief confer- 

 ence, and then retire to the other side of the farmyard. We 

 follow the trio and soon learn that the tufters are to be brought 

 out The whipper-in is at the door of the barn, and in 

 accordance with Arthur's instructions calls out five and a half 

 couples of steady workmanlike-looking hounds, whose appear- 

 ance denotes contact with anything but a bed of roses. 



However, they bear their honourable scars with dignity, and 



