ITO MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



Ha\"ing recovered from his temporary fit of churlish- 

 ness, and dehghted \nth the manner in which the lady 

 had ridden, the Master approached her, somewhat 

 sheepishly it must be confessed, \dth the " brush " and 

 an apolog3^ 



" Pray don't apologise, sir," was the smiling reply. 

 " You simply mistook my favourite hunter for a camel, 

 and I your foxhounds for fox-terriers. It seems we were 

 both mistaken. Thanks awfully for the brush." 

 ******* 



The huntsman of a certain old-estabhshed pack of 

 foxhounds, kennelled ^\"ithin thirt\- miles of London, 

 was laid up ^nth an attack of influenza, and the new 

 Master, who entertained a far better opinion of his 

 capabilities as an amateur huntsman and horseman 

 than did the majority of the members of the hunt, 



elected to carr}- the horn until such time as Tom was 



able to take to the saddle again. 



Now truth to tell. Mr. L . hke the immortal 



Jorrocks, had spent a considerable portion of his existence 



amongst bricks and mortar, and knew far more about the 



\^-ine and spirit trade than he did of the huntsman's 



craft. Indeed, he knew but the name of one sohtar}- 



hound onl}^ of his pack of twenty-seven couples, to 



wit, 



hun 



mouse to an elephant, was too slow for a parish 



funeral, and ought to have been drafted out of the pack 



years ago. 



The meet, which happened to be in the market-square 

 of a smaU country- town, attracted quite a large number 

 of sportsmen and sportswomen, who, needless to add. 



