FOX-HUNTIXG. 199 



to sniff the intoxicating vapour the fox has 

 left behind, and away they go, heads up and 

 sterns down, to the most beautiful music that 

 mortal ear ever heard. 



By this time the field are on their legs, all 

 is hurry skurry and bustle. Where is now 

 the quiet-looking swell, the unimpassioned 

 Parson on the grey ? Why sweeping down 

 like an avalanche, with twenty others of a 

 like stamp, the regular first flight of some of 

 the finest riders and best horses in England, 

 all determined to be first, followed by a crowd 

 of less determined and not quite so well- 

 mounted horsemen ; but all anxious and 

 eager to be going in the best way they can. 

 Where out of England can such a sight 

 be seen ? Nowhere in the wide world. It 

 is a scene to make the blood of the most 

 phlegmatic course through their veins at 

 double-quick pace, to thrill through their 

 hearts to the very core. The hounds have 

 now been brought to their noses, and are 

 fairly settled on their fox ; the field are after 

 them as hard as they can lay legs to the 

 ground. But where am I ? — if I had been 

 a fox-hound I should have been drafted for 



