THE OPENING MEET. 65 



*'The East looks grey ; the early lark 

 Mounts upwards to the sky, 

 And to the rosy-fingered morn 

 Pours forth its minstrelsy. 

 Right merrily the huntsman winds 

 The horn along the vale, 

 And Echo to the neighbouring hills 

 Imparts the gladsome tale." — Old Song, 



It is the opening meet of the season, and Tedworth's 

 hospitable mansion is thrown open to every comer. In the 

 midst is the squire, cordial and affable, on one of his well- 

 known steeds, offering to all a hearty welcome, ready 

 with a sporting joke for some, and a jovial laugh for others. 

 Here may be seen a throng of eager sportsmen, discussing 

 with enthusiasm the prospects and pleasures of the season 

 now about to commence ; there a group encircling a lovely 

 horsewoman, to be the subject of many a toast by-and-by, 

 when the claret circulates freely after the toils and perils 

 of the chase. In the meanwhile what capital cheer within 

 the hall, what barons of beef, what interminable venison 

 pasties ! Breakfast ended — and no superfluous time is 

 wasted in dispatching it — away go the field to a wood not very 

 far off, near to which is the residence of one of the keepers, 

 whose pretty little daughter Mr. Smith is accused of pre- 

 senting not unfrequently with a new dress, only because 

 Reynard is always to be found at home there. Scenes 

 like these gladden the heart, — truly they deserve a better 

 hand than ours to paint ; nevertheless it may be that 

 more than one sportsman may look at the copy, not 

 without some " pleasures of memory," for the sake of the 

 original. 



But although Mr. Assheton Smith was, at the period of 

 his life we are endeavouring to sketch, warmly devoted to 

 fox-hunting, and indeed made it his special pursuit, he was 

 not neglectful of the duties which, as a landed proprietor 

 and English country gentleman, he had to discharge. He 

 gat in Parliament for Andover for several years, and up to 



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