21-1 THE HUNTING-FIELD. 



noticing his field, ^ Put ^em in, Jack," showed 

 by the command he was a M.F.H., though his 

 bearing might have led to doubts of such being 

 his position. The Whips went to the right and 

 left, and, on the Huntsman moving his horse, 

 in rushed the pack. They had not been in the 

 cover five minutes before a hound, not merely 

 '' threw a tongue,^' but opened in right earnest. 

 Oh that detestable half rate from the Huntsman, 

 " Soft lay ; have a care, Jezebel," I hate it " as 

 reek o' the rotten fens." The First Whip was in 

 cover, with the Huntsman close to him. " Yow, 

 yow, yow, yow," cries a young hound in that 

 kind of cur-like note I hate to hear in a fox- 

 hound; and, worse than all, " Ware hare. Doubt- 

 ful, eh ! " cries the Whip, his thong sounding in 

 echoes far and wide ; and, directly afterwards, 

 " camamile, camamile," as a beginning, and " pen 

 an ink, pen an ink," as an ending, showed the 

 thong well laid in had reached the scut-hunting 

 culprit. Shortly, " 'Tally ho ! " sounded from the 

 top of the cover. '• Hark forward, hark ! " cries 

 (most improperly) the Whip, who should never 

 presume to give such halloo till sanctioned by 

 the voice or horn of the Huntsman. " Tally ho ! " 

 comes on our ears, shortly afterwards, nearer to 

 us. " Tally ho, away ! " cries another voice to 

 the left. 



'^ What are we to do ?" said mv friend. 



