XVI. 



THE FIRST MEET OF THE S HOUNDS. 



" See you on Thursday, sir r " has for the last fortnight 

 been the usual greeting of friendly farmers as they passed 

 one on the road, and, as the updrawing of my blind 

 awakens me, I soon recollect that the eventful Thursday 

 has arrived, and that the hounds are to meet for the first 

 time this season. " It is our opening day," as the band 

 of merry outlaws sing in Guy Alannering ; and already, 

 as I dress, occasional glimpses of pink coats, with 

 bobbing backs of darker hue, are visible from my 

 window through the trees which partially hide the 

 road. These are the early birds from a distance, bound 

 for breakfast at the Manor House, and are anxious, 

 those of them who are limited in the matter of horse- 

 flesh, to give their animals a rest before beginning the 

 business of the day ; feeling sure on their own accounts 

 that at the hospitable table of the popular master the 

 interval can be passed pleasantly enough. 



How lovingly one's breeches seem to cling around 

 one's knees, without crease or wrinkle ; and how firmly 

 braced up one feels in the double-seamed black coat ! 

 In short, how extremely satisfactory is the world from 



