1 7 2 Tally ho, 



for a while to watcli the red and fallow deer feeding con- 

 tentedly on the beechnuts^ the kennels are soon reached, 

 and I find John Hill, the kennel-hnntsman, ready 

 and pleased to show me his beauties. Many will 

 remember Hill, when he acted for several years as 

 first whip to the Fitzwilliam, under the tutelage of 

 George Carter, who was himself a pupil of one of 

 the best huntsmen that ever sat in the pigskin, by 

 name Tom Sebright, with whom T have ridden in 

 days long past, through some of the best runs that 

 ever were seen in any country. 



A smart man in dress and manners is John 

 Hill j and if appearances go for anything, 1 should 

 say he was a hard man across country, otherwise 

 he would not have whipped in for six or seven 

 years to such a bruiser as George Carter, who, 

 when well mounted, stands for no repairs, but goes as 

 resolutely across country as if he was riding for dear 

 life, when his blood is up, in a crack run from Stan- 

 wick Pastures, Catworth Gorse, or any other of the 

 best meets of the Fitzwilliam. The kennels and 

 stables are a fine range of buildings, covering a large 

 space of ground, erected at great cost within a very 

 recent period, amply supplied with water pumped up 

 by steam to an elevation that commands the whole of 

 the buildings ; and it is evident that no expense has 

 been spared to render this large establishment as 

 nearly as possible perfect. The huntsman^ s house is 

 close to the kennels^ and is a neat, roomy, and plea- 

 sant abode. A magnificent covered riding school, 

 on a most extensive scale, forms one side of the square 

 of the stable-yard; a range of boxes for the entire 

 horses stands by itself, and the boiling houses, meal 



