ANECDOTE OF A FOX. 133 



been steady, after too much rest frequently become 

 wild and ungovernable. Some years ago, when Lord 

 Middleton hunted Warwickshire, and whose celebrated 

 pack stood as high in the estimation of fox-hunters as 

 any in the world, a most unfortunate occurrence took 

 place, and which is a convincing proof that during any 

 part of the year when the pack are not at work, they 

 cannot have too much strong exercise. After a long 

 and severe frost, the hounds met at Walton Wood, and 

 having forced a fox into the open, were running him 

 with a good fair scent, when suddenly they changed 

 his line for that of a dark red-coloured dog (which 

 had no doubt been coursing him), and fairly ran into 

 him and ate him, before any one could get to them to 

 stop them. I may have once or twice in my life 

 hunted a "put-down fox," as it is sometimes called, 

 but it is a custom I never approved of; nor have I 

 ever known any good judges of hunting who recom- 

 mended it. I once killed a fox in rather an extra- 

 ordinary manner : he was not a bagman, although he 

 appeared to have been just shook from the soot sack 

 of a chimney sweeper. The facts were as follows : I 

 was sitting late one winter evening, and just upon the 

 eve of retiring for the night, when a neiglibourmg 

 farmer brought me a fox in a large basket, which he 

 had just taken in an out-house. As every body was 

 gone to bed excepting myself, and not being able to 

 shut him up in a better place of security, I left him in 

 the room where I was then sitting, for the nigiit, and 

 gave orders that he should not be disturbed till I came 

 down in the morning ; however, the next day a maid- 

 servant going in to light the fire as usual, about seven 



