THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 5 



heart ; unsophisticated by foreign fopperies ; a man whose 

 character could face the world, and whose spirit would 

 not fear it. Again, this maxim was often in his mouth : 

 " Wealth,'" he would say, " is not his who possesses it, hut 

 his who enjoys it ; " and he acted up to the moral of it. 

 " Lcetus uliis, sapiens sibi," he loved to see his friends 

 enjoying themselves by his means ; and, as regarded him- 

 self, his object was to gather the rose and leave the thorn 

 behind. 



Mr. Raby, however, being the father of my hero, I must 

 now speak of him in the capacity of a sportsman ; and a 

 sportsman he was, although but to a certain extent. In the 

 first place, he was not a fox-hunter, but confined himself 

 to his harriers, which were quite perfect of their kind 

 indeed, the crack pack of all the neighbouring counties. 

 And well might they be such, for the breed had been pre- 

 served and improved upon, for more than half a century 

 by his father and himself ; and, from the number of walks 

 he had for puppies amongst his own tenants, and those of 

 his neighbours, he bred as many young hounds every year, 

 to make a choice of, as some masters of foxhounds. Then 

 his hunting establishment was perfect ; and, as regarded 

 horses, at least, not far from being equal to that necessary 

 for foxhounds hunting only three days in the week. He 

 kept ten slapping hunters for himself and his two men ; 

 and he never had less than forty couples of working hounds 

 in his kennel. Nor must I pass over the manner in which 

 his pack were turned out. As for themselves, they were, 

 as I have already observed, perfect. There was not an inch 

 between any one and another in height ; their form was 

 that of the modern foxhound in miniature ; their tongues 

 light, but musical, and their condition as perfect as their 

 form. His huntsman was likewise a model of his order, 

 having been the grandson of one man, and the son of 

 another, who had filled the same situation in life ; he was, 

 therefore, well bred for his calling. He was, however, 

 what is called " a character," a bundle of vagaries in his 

 way. In the first place, although a horseman of the first 

 class, he was difficult to be suited with horses ; neither 

 did he fancy any that he had not himself made choice of. 

 And even here appeared the " character." He would take 

 a fancy to animals by no means likely to make hunters, 

 but which, as though instinct directed him in his election, 

 seldom failed in turning out such. The mention of one 



