The Hound Puppy at Walk 185 



jumps up in front of him, and he takes after it like a shot. 

 But the whipper-in takes after him, and " Ware rabbit ! 

 Ware rabbit ! " he shouts, the thong of his hunting-crop 

 sinking into the puppy's very flesh. Puppy, humiliated, 

 sneaks back to join his fellows, with a look of reproach at 

 the huntsman. He was trying so hard to do his best ! 

 The instinct for hunting has been bred in him for the last 

 two hundred years, and now when he is brought into the 

 woods he is flogged unmercifully. He sulks along while 

 the cut smarts, but presently a reliable hound hits off the 

 line. 



" Hark to Pedro ! Hark to Pedro ! On, Barman ! On, 

 my beauty ! " 



Thus addressed by the cheery cry of the huntsman, 

 Puppy's spirit revives. He joins the others, gets a whiff of 

 the fox's line, and away goes his tongue in a joyous shout 

 as he drives at it with might and main. 



Soon the sagacious brute, his curling tail 

 Flourish'd in air, low-bending plies around 

 His busy nose, the steaming vapour snuffs 

 Inquisitive, nor leaves one turf untried, 

 Till, conscious of the recent stains, his heart 

 Beats quick ; his snuffling nose, his active tail, 

 Attest his joy ; then with deep-opening mouth, 

 That makes the welkin tremble, he proclaims 

 Th' audacious felon ; foot by foot he marks 

 His winding way, while all the list'ning crowd 

 Applaud his reas'nings. 



On the outside another young entry catches the stronger 

 line of a rabbit, and goes after it with clamourous tongue, 



