ANECDOTES. 85 



and told every one the fox had killed them, and all this 

 time they were in the cellar dressed ready for market, and 

 afterwards sold ; " — and so was the Colonel. 



On one occasion Mr. Wood called to see a lady 

 who had sent in a big bill for poultry, and on his re- 

 monstrating with her for her high charges, she said (not 

 knowing him by sight, only by name) — 



*' Oh, Mr. Reginald Wood always pays me that 

 price." 



He assured her this was not the case, as he had the 

 best reason to know, adding — 



" I happen to be Mr. Reginald Wood." 



The good lady's countenance was worth seeing when 

 she heard this announcement. 



Stephen Dickins, late one afternoon, hunting a fox 

 through the Burnt Woods, brought a line out on the 

 Broughton Birches side, and hounds hunting slowly over 

 some plough, a man at work in the field asked him what 

 he was hunting. 



" A fox, of course," said Dickins. 



" And do you think you'll catch him ? " said the man. 



" I shall try," said Dickins. 



" I'm sure you won't," said the man. 



" Why not ? " said Dickins. 



" Because he went the other way ten minutes ago." 



Dickins's face went very long, as it did at certain times, 

 and he remarked to Mr. Reginald Wood, who was about 

 the only one of the field left — 



" I think we had better go home, sir ; " and home 

 they went. 



It only shows what an art woodland hunting is, and 

 how easily huntsman and hounds can miss killing a fox. 



Dickins, as remarked before, was always keen for 

 blood, and to see him lifting his feet and stamping during 

 the operation of breaking up a fox was most amusing. 

 Quite unconscious himself of this movement, it was to the 

 looker-on a sort of amateur war-dance over his dead foe. 

 Riding home from hunting one evening with an old 



