232 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



" At the end of the cover where we began." 

 " All right, so far," I cried. " I heard Bavard 

 find and speak to him two hours ago ; but the insane 

 cry of the babblers called her awaj. They are on 

 nothing now." 



" Oh ! you will see they are all right, and we shall 

 kill somethinor." 



*^' Well," I said, " my dear fellow, you may go on 

 if you like ; but, as I know they are only amusing 

 themselves and deceiving you, for old Coco's sake 

 1 shall go home. Look!" I cried, as a last resource, 

 " not an English hound backs them." 



*' Oh, that does not matter, they have no noses." 

 This shut me up, and we separated ; and I rode 

 home in deep cogitation on the utter hopelessness of 

 setting my young friends right, or of curing them 

 of their most erroneous and essentially French 

 ideas on the noble chase. I need not assure my 

 readers that they came home imattended with the 

 success they are always looking for and so seldom 

 obtain. 



