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than other?. In fact, he was dictatorial in debate and determined in 

 having his opinions adopted by others, and seldom would he adopt 

 theirs. This propensity rendered him, as he certainly was, imperious in 

 manner, although courteous and affable, but second fiddle he could 

 play to no man. 



Although many years my senior, we were always the greatest 

 friends, and he told me a lot more about hunting than I think he ever 

 did to anyone else. I had, however, to humour him, and at times to 

 employ stratagems to get out of him what I wanted. No plan 

 succeeded better than to make what I knew was a palpably wrong 

 remark. Immediately my poor soul would be consigned to Avernus, 

 and my body likened to a sanguinary donkey's, but I cared not for body 

 or soul so long as I drew from old Henry the shapes which constituted 

 the perfect foxhound or the weight-carrying hunter. This, through 

 the means of my idiotic remarks, I generally did, either by descriptive 

 dialogue, or, better still, by practical illustration on the flags of the 

 kennels and in the stables. 



For many years my Sundays were generally spent with him. When 

 church was over I accompanied the family to Tinvane, and after an 

 early dinner the remainder of the evening was spent among the hounds 

 and horses. Under the apple-trees in the old orchard, " and the bust- 

 ling pack at my feet," many a lesson was given me by him, and from 

 such a mentor it was not difficult to learn something about the shapes 

 of a foxhound and the theory of working him. 



Never did I enjoy interviews with anyone more than I did those 

 with my dear and genial friend, nor shall I ever do so again. 



Since the now long-past period of these, my Sunday-school visits to 

 Tinvane, I have seen a great many kennels, and a great many packs 

 of foxhounds. I shall, therefore, put on paper what has occurred to 

 me with regard to the construction of kennels in general and those for 

 foxhounds in particular. 



It strikes me that a lot of unnecessary trouble and expense is at times 

 gone to in building kennels. Of course, as with most things, it is nicer 

 to have them fitted smartly than otherwise ; but I am pretty certain 

 that expensive adornments are not necessary adjuncts to the well-being 

 of a pack of hounds. Take, for instance, the old kennels at Tinvane. In 

 them hounds enjoyed the very best of good health, and from them 

 showed the very best of sport. Yet every detail, though perfect in 

 its principle, was of the simplest description, and, like the Irishman's 

 cabin, "with not a single thing for show." I know many others fitted 

 up with all sorts of grandeur and even luxury for the hounds, but 

 lamentably deficient in the all-important principle — sanitary arrange- 

 ments—with the result that in them kennel lameness and other dis- 

 orders are constantly to be found, while in the field the work of the 

 occupants is by no means first-rate nor is good sport shown. 



The great thing for kennels is to have them built upon stiff clay or 

 rock, with a southern or south-western aspect, good drainage, with 



