THE UNITED HUNT. 215 



led to this result were various and widely different. The younkers, 

 and they were the majority, held that nothing could be done except 

 with a pack of pure English blood. The nestors of the chase 

 talked of the good old times, and stuck out for the old blood ; the 

 juniors, however, were positive, and, being the majority, of course 

 they carried their point, and the palaver ended with a resolution 

 to import as many hounds of English blood as possible, and get 

 rid of the Irish curs. The governor went over to Leicestershire 

 with full powers and a full purse. Drafts were procured at a high 

 figure from some crack kennels, the native Irish hounds were got 

 rid of, the coverts stocked, Michaelmas day came about again, and 

 our hopes were higher than ever. Another winter passed, and at 

 our St. Patrick's Day feed we had once more to debate on a chapter 

 of accidents, crosses and losses of all kinds, blank days, foxes no 

 sooner found than lost, no pads on the kennel door, not a single long 

 run to talk over, and a very long bill to pay, our exchequer running 

 low, and our spirits lower. This year we determined that it was 

 all the huntsman's fault, that the English hounds did not under- 

 stand his Irish brogue — how could they.? So we dismissed him, 

 and imported a Meltonian. In the third and fourth years it was 

 ditto repeated ; in the fifth we transported our Englishman and 

 imported a Scotchman : in short, to wind up the history of our 

 'Decline and Fall' in the ten years of our existence, we tried 

 four huntsmen, as many managers, twice as many secretaries, 

 whips innumerable, and had not a single run worthy of reporting 

 in a sporting journal. The subscribers dropped off, the club 

 became bankrupt, the horses were sold, the hounds were brought 

 to the hammer, but no one would bid for them. We then puffed 

 them off in all the papers for six months, and at length sold them 

 for about a tenth of the first cost. Having shown the total failure 

 of an experiment, thus fairly tried with some of the purest English 

 blood, manned by Englishmen, and hunted a V Anglaise in every 

 sense of the word, let us take a peep at the other side of the picture : 

 there we shall see what has been done this present season, in the 

 same country, by a little pack of the ' ould Irish' blood, kept by 

 an 'ould Irish' gentleman, who would as soon think of letting an 

 English foxhound into his kennel as of allowing an English sports- 

 man out of his house at seven o'clock on a hunting eve. His 

 huntsman and whip, Jack Lynch and Dinny Shuckaroo, though 

 they never crossed the Irish Channel in their lives, can ' discoorse* 



