96 THE LIFE OF A FOX 



run, was that which belonged to the late Mr. 

 Codrington. It is stated that they killed e very- 

 fox that they hunted during eight following weeks. 

 They are said not to be compared for beauty to the 

 former pack, which is reported to have been a 

 magnificent one ; but " handsome is that handsome 

 does." 



Now, my friends, I will tell you why I prefer 

 hedgerows and out-of-the-way places to fix on for 

 a kennel. Listen to a matter of fact, but a 

 melancholy story of what took place in a part of 

 the country where I was bred. It happened when 

 in a favourite little covert near Namptwich that I 

 was attracted by the scent of a bait which was 

 placed under a large iron trap, carefully covered 

 over with some light grass and moss ; on attempt- 

 ing to remove these I unfortunately struck the 

 trap, which went off and caught me by the foot. 

 Need I describe the agony I endured, confmed as I 

 was by the mangled foot ? Daylight appeared, 

 when, nearly exhausted with pain, I made a desper- 

 ate effort with my other forefoot, and succeeded in 

 pulling out the peg that confined to the ground 

 the chain of the trap, which I dragged away for 

 some distance, I then lay down overcome with pain, 

 and in this deplorable condition remained for two 



