A MASTER OF OTTERHOUNDS 237 



Master remember her with the present of a pole or pad. 

 There is an excellent song about a miller's daughter, 

 but that enters into details that hardly come within the 

 scope of this chapter. It is a far cry from Chelmsford 

 to Weare Gifford, yet what better friend to otter- 

 hunting does memory cherish than Mr. Martin, of 

 How Street Mill, in the E.O.H. country, or than our 

 good friend Mr. Fry, in the country hunted by the 

 Cheriton ! 



Many are the disagreeables and the difficulties that 

 lie in the path of one who would hunt and master a 

 pack of otterhounds, two offices which are usually 

 filled by one person. Many, also, are the compensating 

 pleasures and privileges. As to the side on which the 

 balance inclines, I withhold any pronounced opinion. 

 The reader of this chapter may perhaps be able to judge 

 for himself. Les opinions ne sont que des points de vue, 

 the sound motto of L'amie inconnne in The County 

 Gentleman, has a special application to otter-hunting ; 

 aud he who has enjoyed a good week's sport with his 

 otterhounds — a pretty trail, a clever find, a rousing 

 hunt, and, since Finis coronat opns, a kill at the end — 

 may be stirred to the wildest pitch of enthusiasm. His 

 neighbour, on the other hand, who has had nothing but 

 long and weary walks, with no sign or sniff of an otter 

 on his streams for weeks together, will not view the 

 sport through roseate glasses, particularly as he knows 

 all the while how good an account his hands would 

 give of themselves if they but got the chance to display 

 their patience in drawing, their cleverness in finding, 

 and their dash, drive, g,ncj music once they had their 



