250 



THE FOX. 



ceive the horror and contempt in which the Italian 

 boors, hold our scarlet-coated gentlemen, whom 

 they believe to have come from the far north, to teach 

 them a new mode of thinning foxes, at the risk 

 of life, by rashness and by falls from horseback. 

 Whilst we ourselves were in Eome, the master 

 of the hunt, took a random leap, and broke his 

 neck on the spot. 



Some five and fifty years ago, I was at a fox- 

 hunt which I shall never forget. We threw off 

 with customary pomp and zeal, but ended with 

 a farce, ludicrous in the extreme. It so affected 

 the noble owner of the hounds, that, he lost all 

 temper, and made grimaces, as though he had been 

 stung by pismires. 



In the afternoon, after a good run, we found 

 ourselves on the extensive line of covers, which 

 stretch from Newmillerdam, up to Woolley Edge, 

 through King s-wood and Bush-cliff. The fox was 

 obstinate, and would not break cover, but stuck 

 closely to the woods at Newmillerdam, nor could 

 the united discord, (if I may be allowed the expres- 

 sion) of hounds and horns, and merry men on foot, 

 cause him to quit his chosen quarters. More than 

 an hour was spent in chasing him to and fro, but 

 without success. Now he was on the edge of the 

 wood r—then back again to its deepest recesses, 

 and so on : — puzzling both dog and man. 



