5Q A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



all, is no impossibility, but, without any visible means, 

 compasses the very thing we want. That limbless, 

 muscleless, faulty old figure can fly ! " Deep in a 

 reverie, I ran over all the angels and cupids, 

 cherubims and seraphims, I had ever seen depicted, 

 as well as the portraits of that well-bearded old 

 gentleman Time, and blamed myself for doubting 

 that any one of them could fly, however, favourable 

 their moult, without the additional muscles to put 

 their wings in motion. I regretted too, my wicked 

 assertion that no angel could fly unless, like a duck, 

 his winos were located more in the middle of his 

 body. All this harassed and vexed me ; still, I felt 

 convinced that, without the aid of a steam-kettle or 

 other artificial contrivance, on one side or the other, 

 Papajow could fly no more than a painter's angel ; 

 nor could he run up with Barricade, Bavard, Corbeau, 

 Saxon, and some others. 



The pack that I was to work with, then, consisted 

 of several worn-out foxhound bitches, that had be- 

 come, in England, too slow and too slack to hunt 

 the animal whom they had hitherto vanquished, and 

 whom they could kill ; and these were expected, in 

 France, to buckle to the strange scent of the boar and 

 wolf, who, instead of their killing, could kill them, 

 and to commence a new life of extended activity and- 



