132 Wild Life in a Southern County. 
pressed together, and proudly fathered by the artist’s 
name in full. 
One representing a meet, and the other full cry, 
the pack crossing a small river; the meet still and 
rigid, every horseman in his place—not a bit jingling, 
or a hoof pawing, or anything in motion. Now the 
beauty of the meet, as distinct from a drilled cavalry 
troop, is its animation ; horses and riders moving here 
and there, gathering together and spreading out again, 
new-comers riding smartly up, in continuous freshness 
of grouping, and constant relief to the eye. The other 
—in full cry—all polished and smooth and varnished 
as when they left the stable ; horses with glossy coats, 
riders upright and fatigueless, dogs clean, and not a 
sign of poaching on the turf. The dogs are coming 
out of the water with their tails up and straight— dogs 
as they trail their flanks out of a brook always, in 
fact, droop their tails, while their bodies look smaller 
and the curves project, because the water lays the hair 
flat to the body till several shakes send it out again. 
Not a speck on a top-boot, not a coat torn by a thorn, 
and the horses as plump as if fresh from their mangers, 
instead of having worked it down. Not a fleck of 
foam ; the sun, too, shining, and yet no shadow--all 
glaring. And, despite of all, deeply interesting to 
those who know the country-side and have a feeling 
knowledge of its hunting history. 
For the horses are from life, and the men portraits ; 
the very hedges and brooks faithful—in ground-plan, 
