FOX HUNTING DIVINES. 145 



As to mixture of colour, lie was fond of that in which the 

 blue or grey predominated, although he was of the same 

 opinion as Foote, namely, that a good dog could not be of a 

 bad colour. 



How he loved the thrilling melody of his pack ! * — 



" Match'd in mouth like bells, each under each, — 



and how he would turn round in his saddle, even before he 

 was half over his leap, to catch all he could of the joyous 

 ecstasy of their voices — 



Vocat ingenti clamore Cithseron, 

 Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum, 

 Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminata remugit. — ViRG. 



As an instance of the enthusiasm Mr. Smith always 

 evinced for his favourite diversion, and of the value he set 

 upon a participation in it, an anecdote may be mentioned 

 of the Kev. Francis Dyson, now rector of Cricklade. Mr. 

 Dyson's father was the clergyman at Tedworth, and gave 

 his son a title to orders as his curate on his being first 

 ordained. Mr, Smith was so pleased with his first sermon, 

 that, on coming out of church, he slapped the young man 

 on the back, and said, " Well done, Frank ! you shall have 

 a mount on Rory (Rory O'More) next Thursday." Young 

 Dyson had many a run afterwards out of the squire's 

 stables, for his performance in the field pleased as much as 

 those in the pul})it. 



Among Mr. Smith's sporting congregation were not a 

 few of the clergy, and these were never far in the rear of 

 the squire. He was once entering the house of a certain 

 divine, where his hounds met that morning, accompanied 



* The sportsman will remember the story of the Londoner. " There, 

 there's music for you," said an enthusiastic farmer to a cockney ; " what 

 splendid melody ! Don't you hear it ? " "No," replied the other, " I 

 can hear nothing for those confounded dogs.'" Sir Roger de Coverley 

 having received a valuable hound from a friend, returned it with many 

 expressions of civility, saying that it was an *' excellent bass, but at 

 present he only wanted a counter-tenor." — Spectator, No. 116. 



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