SEASONS 1S41 - /S6i;. iot 



' Entertaining these notions, it will readily be understood 

 that a tour on unknown ground, and hunting with strange 

 packs, known to me only by the fame they have acquired, 

 would be to me perhaps the next best thing to receiving 

 a handsome legacy. I confess it was with high antici- 

 pations of pleasure that, at the commencement of the 

 present week, I found myself at York, with the prospect 

 of a campaign amongst the neighbouring packs. At the 

 same time I cannot help expressing my surprise that, in 

 a town like York, where hounds can be reached nearly 

 every day in the week, there should be so little horse 

 accommodation for strangers. In nearly all hunting 

 countries decent mounts are to be obtained, and though 

 not valuable ones, still fair rideable hunters are let. As 

 far as my own experience goes, and from all I can hear, 

 an influx of half a dozen strangers would take up every 

 nag that is here to be procured ; and as to cjuality, perhaps 

 the less we say about them the better. I speak feelingly, 

 from being obliged to meet Sir Charles Slingsby at Blue 

 Bridge on Monday last, on an animal that, I am certain, 

 though let as a hunter, would not have kept within hail of 

 the pack half a dozen fields over that country if there was 

 anything of a scent. She was, however, equal, as it 

 proved, to the occasion. But let all intending visitors 

 take my advice, and not trust to York for finding them in 

 horseflesh. Monday opened damp and mild, with very 

 little air and less sun — quite like a hunting morning, in 

 fact — and long ere breakfast was over, the sight of horses 

 passing Marker's on their road to covert would have told 

 even the uninitiated that such it really was. Half an hour 

 later the occasional glimpses of pink, as the wearers 

 crossed the road, quieted all doubt as to the finding the 

 way to covert, and many miles of the road had not been 

 traversed ere I found myself in pleasant chat with one 

 or two others bound for the fixture. Our road lay by 

 Rawcliffe and Fairfield, which we passed not without 

 a thought of sorrow that the late owner, who so gallantly 

 held his own in this very country on the big jumping 

 Barney by Barnton, was even then awaiting his last sad 

 journey. Brighter thoughts, however, resumed theii 

 swav when Mr. G. Thompson came cantering up, and, 



