Old Bob Luther. 449 



music. Some of his long and low bitches went a 

 better pace and said much less about it. He kept 

 them under very little control, and they were so 

 eager that when they came near a cover they would 

 break away and throw tongue as if they were on a 

 drag. Luther always waited for the body of the pack, 

 and generally seemed to drop on them at the first 

 check, and he did not speak in D minor if any one 

 was meddling with them and getting up their heads. 

 Letting them make it out for themselves was his 

 maxim. He always fed his hounds himself from 

 " the offal of the farm and tail ends " as he expressed 

 it ; but whatever that comprehensive mixture might 

 be, he generally had them in bloom, and if his temper 

 was at " set-fair " he would draw on till dark. He 

 dearly loved a meet at Pilleth or Monaughty Gorse 

 in the Knighton district. "/ like the country, and 1 

 like the buoys in it," was the phrase through which he 

 invariably denoted his preference. Although it was 

 in his country, he never went to Breidden Rocks till 

 within three seasons of his death, and then he had 

 five or six brace of foxes on foot round the Rodney 

 Monument. 



He hated to have a red coat in the field ; and when 

 he saw a fresh one coming he would sidle up to some 

 of his green brigade, whom he could depend upon, 

 and say, " Mind that man, he'll be sure to show you the 

 way along/" If he couldn't have a cut at them him- 

 self he liked to have it done by deputy. Still he 

 knew the country so well that he was generally close 

 up at the finish. Top boots were quite as much under 

 his ban as a red coat, and it was only during his last 

 eight seasons that he appeared in a velvet cap. A 

 green swallow tail with light metal buttons, jack 

 boots, and white cords, which he made a point of 

 smudging well with blood at each Whaw Whoop ! 

 were his chosen apparel. His voice in cover was a 

 very melodious one, and his horn shake when he did 



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