236 HORSES AND HOUNDS. 



minute acjo," Still the same stifi- denial, " Not at home, sir." 

 How forcibly do those beautiful lines of Lord Byron occur to 

 me as the truest though most severe censure ever passed on 

 boasting mankind : — 



" Oh, man ; thou feeble tenant of an liour, 

 Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power ; 

 Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, 

 Degraded mass of animated dust ! 

 Thy love is lust, thy friendsliip all a cheat. 

 Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit." 



"Well, my curious friend having heard a great deal of the 

 celebrated De Ville, wished me (as shy country maidens do 

 when they submit their fair palms to the scrutiny of some 

 itinerant Egyptian prophetess) to have my secret failings exhi- 

 bited as well as his own. Nothing like having a companion 

 to be experimented upon also. Down the Strand Ave toddled, 

 therefore, to the den of the mighty necromancer. I must go 

 first, of course, and when my companion had heard all that 

 could be said of my character, then his cranium should be sub- 

 mitted for scrutiny. It needed little art to tell my failings—^ 

 that I was a sort of Will Careless— viewing all things couleur 

 de rose — sanguine in my expectations — and believing all men to 

 be honest and sincere. I was told, also, that my good nature 

 would lead me into many troubles, out of which I must 

 trust to my own wits to deliver me. De Ville was a true 

 prophet. 



Awhile since I was writing of stoats running down their 

 game by scent. This very day a case in point has just come 

 l)artly under my own observation. Taking a stroll by the side 

 of a large wood, I met wdth a woodman at work. One of my 

 terriers being attracted to his wallet, which lay on tlie hedge, 

 began scratching at it. " Oh ! musn't tear my bag, little dog," 

 said the man. "There's something more than bread there, my 

 friend," I replied, " or my dog would not have noticed it." " And 

 so there is, sir, that's true enough ; there's a rabbit in it." 

 " Well," I said, '' how did he get there ?" " Why, in rather a 

 curious w^ay. I wur a sitting down under the wood hedge, 

 eating my bit of bread, when I hears a bit of a rustling, and out 

 comes Muster Bunny in a terrable fluster, dash out into the 

 field, and good cause he had to be in a hurry, when who should 

 be close arter him but Mr. Stoat as brisk as a bee — who but 

 he." "Well," I said, "what thenf "Why, sur, the rabbit 

 takes out straight aliead into the open field, but ]\Ir. Stoat wur 

 too nimble for 'un, and cotched ]Mr. Bunny afore he could reach 



