THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON, AND 

 ITS RESULTS 



" When at the close of the departing year 

 Is heard that joyful sound, the huntsman's cheer, 

 And wily Reynard with the morning air 

 Scents from afar the foe, and leaves his lair." 



I QUITE agree with the distinguished foreign noble- 

 man who declared that '' Nothing was too good to 

 go foxing in ; " and with the immortal Jorrocks 

 of Handley Cross fame, I exclaim, " 'Unting, my 

 beloved readers, is the image of war with only ten 

 per cent, of its dangers." 



Ever since I was an imbreeched urchin, and my 

 only steed a rough Shetland pony, across whose 

 bare back my infantine legs could scarcely stride, I 

 have looked forward to a day's hunting with the 

 keenest relish. The preliminary sport of cub- 

 hunting — with its early-dawn meets : bad scent, 

 consequent upon fallen leaves and decayed veget- 

 able matter ; riotous young hounds, which can 

 scarcely be brought to hunt upon any terms ; timid, 

 nervous young foxes, who hardly dare poke their 

 sharp noses out of covert — only serves to give a 



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