THE COTTESMORE IN 1826." 19 



my tribute of regard and respect for the memory 

 of those from whom in younger and happier years 

 I have at all times received so much kindness. 

 Greetings and small-talk, and the coffee-house part 

 of the business being over, we proceed to the real 

 business of the day, and at a word from the noble 

 Master, Slack and his hounds move on to draw Wood- 

 well Head, a covert too well known to all hunting 

 men to require any comment or description from my 

 humble pen ; as it was then, so it is now, I hear, a 

 certain find, and doubtless the fame of Woodwell 

 Head will live for ever. With a wave of his hand, 

 the hounds are in the noted covert, and set to work 

 to draw in earnest. Old Slack, holding his reins and 

 whip in his left hand, sets his right arm akimbo, as 

 was his invariable custom, and for a minute or two 

 his melodious voice is heard, as he rides slowly up 

 the riding, drawing this well-known covert. I say 

 melodious voice, because any one who was alive in 

 those now remote days will bear me out in saying 

 that it was the most musical voice that ever was heard 

 produced by the throat of a huntsman. There may 

 have been as fine voices as his, but I never heard 

 one, and when he set his arm akimbo and had 

 cleared his throat with a couple of hems, the tones 



c 2 



