144 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



CHAP. X. 



** Time hung not heavy, still I thought 

 On thy bright form, so dear and fair, 

 And in each perfum'd zephyr caught 

 A sigh — p'rhaps sent to seek me there! 

 Breath of thy lips — each sweet to me 

 Is but an essence stolen from thee ! " 



Berkeley. 



After the foregoing failure of the attack on the 

 huge Solitary, for a week I was thus left entirely 

 to my own resources, my kind-hearted, attentive, 

 and jolly companions kept from my company by 

 a sad loss in their family. During these days I 

 constantly attended to the hounds in their kennel, 

 and very often fed them myself — too happy in seeing 

 that, in all respects but one, their condition rapidly 

 improved. The point in which time and means did 

 not avail for success was in the cutaneous disorders, 

 or complicated mange in their skins. With this, and 

 on their present food, I could not deal severely enough. 



