" THEY IMITATED NATUEE SO ABOMINABLY." 323 



in point of fact, if he is a game one, they determine 

 that he must not die if it can be prevented. If this 

 was not the feehng among sportsmen, I must indeed 

 have been a glorious fool for on one occasion nearly 

 drowning myself and horse in saving one in Virginia 

 Water, and many no doubt will think me one for so 

 doing. The only plea I can offer such folks in exte- 

 nuation of what they term folly is, that, upon my soul, 

 I would not have run the same risk to save them^ and 

 what is more, faithfully promise I never ^vill. 



But to return to our " Hie-ho Chevy " friend. How- 

 ever magnificently or classically melodramas may 

 be got up now, the moment they attempt to repre- 

 sent a fox-hunter or jockey they utterly fail. Did 

 ever eyes behold a man appropriately dressed as a fox- 

 hunter on any stage? Mine never have. From Ham- 

 let to Crack in " The Turnpike Gate," as mortals ; from 

 Juno to Ganymede, as heavenly bodies — and heavenly 

 little bodies some are who represent them (I have often 

 wished to prove them earthly) — all are well and ap- 

 propriately dressed. Then why not dress a sportsman 

 appropriately ? The non -judges would not like him 

 the less, and the judges would be more interested. 

 Conceive John Kemble as Coriolanus bearding the 

 Volscians in a Chesterfield and Wellingtons ! 



We will suppose a fox-hunter is to come on : let me 

 see if I can come at all near the thing by description. 

 First, we hear the cracking of a whip in the side- 

 scenes, quite as loud and continued, but not half as 

 well done as that of a postilion's arriving from Mar- 

 seilles or any other Continental town : then we are 

 treated with sundry yoyks, or yikes, or yohikes, or 

 some such unheard-of, and let us hope never-to-be- 

 heard again, sounds. Gods of hunting ! what would 



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