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and his lank light hair streaming from underneath, who gallops up on a thirteen-hand pony, looking as if nothing he'd yet seen was good enough for him; whilst that quiet-looking man, with a short-sighted look, walking his well-topped brown hunter along the side of the hedge, with the reins on his neck, and that neat effeminate little man on the quiet thorough-bred one, talking to a lady in a pony phaëton, have quite escaped observation. When the prancing and dancing are over, and business begins, we shall know where to look for them all.

"How's the stud, Clipperstone?"

"Not so good as might be-short of work." "Got the old chesnut mare still ?"

"Yes, she's the best of the lot. The hounds look well, don't they? I suppose we draw Scurry Coppice."

The squire looks well. That's a very neat white-legged horse of his-one of Anderson's, I fancy."

And in the midst of such cheering chat the hounds move off to draw for their first fox in the open, and are followed by a field of miscellaneous sportsmen, with different notions of the pleasures of hunting, and only unanimous each in his good opinion of himself.

We've some of all sorts in our country, too, and I'll introduce them as opportunity offers.

I've been

But all this has nothing to do with the Pytchley. I hate your in medias res sort of fellows; that medias res" business is generally an excuse for a want of something to say. Your unimaginative biped never wastes time in a peroration, however recommended by Aristotle. I follow the rules of the schools. If you, too, have any imagination, fancy yourself at Great Harrowden on Monday, the 1st of November; you must also fancy a very sharp burst of about 20 minutes, and a kill in the open; and a second fox, with a like result, barring the kill, on a day that was more like June than November. obliged to fancy it, as I wasn't there. It was a very pretty opening, and such as Mr. Payne deserved. On the Wednesday following, the morning was unpropitious; a fog as cold as it could be, with those dewdropping cobwebs, foretold a want of scent. However, North Kilworth had its votaries, early as it was in the season. Lord Southampton was with us, on a very fine horse. Mr. Frederick Villiers is again at Sulby, and with a first-rate stud, of which he makes first-rate use; he rode a very nice grey horse, which I have seen going excellently since. Mr. H. Farquhar is at Arlingworth, I believe; he has some good cattle, and is one of the most forward men in the country. Mr. Bevan was on Blue Rock, one of the best horses of the country, though I should have picked Intruder, another grey of his, for shape and make; he is lower, with much strength, and thorough-bred. Mr. Colville represented Brixworth, which has since filled. Lord Bateman was there, with a good sprinkling of the county; a few of the officers from Weedon and Northampton; and Mr. Hall and his friends, who have stabling at Kilsby for a large stud. Of course they found at the Stick Cover, and I never saw a fox go away more like running; the hounds were close at him, and deluded us into the belief of a scent; but a fastish ring of fifteen minutes settled our hopes of a run, and we lost him. A second fox from Mr. Gough's osier-bed gave us the slip in like manner. There was a pretty general determination to ride, and a few falls amongst the

"nobs" (that's a very blackguard word, but highly expressive), though their horses let them down "easy"-a scratched nose and a dirty coat the extent of the damage. I got away well on the outside, with Mr. Colville, and Mr. Hipwell the farmer; and the hounds turned from us at every stroke; however, we lost nothing, and should have had a fair start in the event of a run.

Hemplow Hills and Cot's Gorse were drawn blank in a drizzling rain, and very blank were our faces at this unexpected deficiency; happily it has not proved so elsewhere. I hope the farmers and gentlemen in that vicinity will keep their eyes open. Mr. Payne merits their most strenuous support in every particular.

Kelmarsh, on the 5th, produced a fox (Fawkes), and plenty of Guys assembled to hunt him amongst the real men of business. Much was not done until late in the day. When almost every body was gone home, Mr. Payne was persuaded just to try Loteland Wood (I understand), and had thirty-five minutes at a rattling pace over that beautiful country. Lord Alford and Mr. Villiers were luckily amongst the very few who saw it and could appreciate it. The former is one of the best men in England across a country; and the latter like unto him. Yelvertoft field-side treated us on the Wednesday following to a first-rate fox. Away he went at the bottom of the cover, all the world pressing for the gate over the canal, and nearly spoiling the whole business. Mr. Bevan, Lord Vivian (who has got Misterton this season), and a blackcoated gentleman on a leggy chesnut, got well away, crossing the road in the midst of the pony-carriages up to Hemplow Hills. After getting through the cover the scent failed us, and though we managed to hunt him on to Sulby and beyond it, the cream of the thing was finished in about ten minutes. Foxhall on Friday, and Sibbertoft on Saturday, the 12th and 13th, were the fixtures; and from the latter a good burst and a kill repaid the trouble of riding over some sticky country. An accident happened to one of our good men from Brixworth, which has kept him hors de combat for three weeks. I was glad to see him out again to-day.

Cark always has a varmint ready to fly, and did not disappoint its admirers on Monday, the 15th: forty-five minutes for nine miles as the crow flies, besides plenty of dodging. This was succeeded, on Wednesday, by a good slow hunting run from Misterton gorse; the fox running through the rector's garden at Crick, by which manœuvre Mr. Payne missed him, when nearly beat. He was afterwards viewed, but too late to recover him. When there's no sport, there's generally plenty of fun. The scent was bad, and the sun shining, at Ashby on Friday; and having nothing to do, masters and men went tumbling about like ninepins. One groom stood on his head at least five minutes, and must have had his hat cut off his head, it was so well rammed home. Up to this point you see we have had at least an average month's sport: listen to an impartial account of Saturday, the 21st. Everybody knows Crick-and everybody likes it. Royalty comes to look at it, and, I am sorry to say, once kept us waiting in it till 2 o'clock P.M. This time we were punctual, and by eleven o'clock even the beauty as well as the fashion of the neighbourhood had reached it: Mr. Payne and his brother; Lords Henley and Clifden (on such a chesnut!); Messrs. Villiers, H. Farquhar, Bromley, Gage, Bevan; Lord Munster, Mr. W. Coke, Lord

How's the stud, Clipperstone?"

"Not so good as might be short of work."

"Got the old chesnut mare still ?" "Yes, she's the best of the lot.

I suppose we draw Scurry Coppice."

The hounds look well, don't they?

"The squire looks well. That's a very neat white-legged horse of his-one of Anderson's, I fancy."

We've some of all sorts in our country, too, and I'll introduce them as opportunity offers.

had its votaries, early as it was in the season. with us, on a very fine horse. Mr. Frederick Villiers is again at Sulby, and with a first-rate stud, of which he makes first-rate use; he rode a very nice grey horse, which I have seen going excellently since. Mr. H. Farquhar is at Arlingworth, I believe; he has some good cattle, and is one of the most forward men in the country. Mr. Bevan was on Blue Rock, one of the best horses of the country, though I should have picked Intruder, another grey of his, for shape and make; he is lower, with much strength, and thorough-bred. Mr. Colville represented Brixworth, which has since filled. Lord Bateman was there, with a good sprinkling of the county; a few of the officers from Weedon and Northampton; and Mr. Hall and his friends, who have stabling at Kilsby for a large stud. Of course they found at the Stick Cover, and I never saw a fox go away more like running; the hounds were close at him, and deluded us into the belief of a scent; but a fastish ring of fifteen minutes settled our hopes of a run, and we lost him. A second fox from Mr. Gough's osier-bed gave us the slip in like manner. There was a pretty general determination to ride, and a few falls amongst the

Alford, Mr. Crawford; Captains Allen, Newland, Arkwright; cavalry from Northampton, infantry from Weedon, muffs from Leamington, sojourners in Rugby, lawyers from London, our old friend Snob; and old Mother Red Cap, always behind when she ought to be in front, and vice versá; and last, not least, James Mason, who had been steeplechasing at Newport. Jack-boots and top-boots; short legs and long pedigrees; all bone and no blood, and the reverse; bang-tails, switchtails, rat-tails; such a medley as trotted down the road, and began plunging and galloping and snorting when they turned through the gate to the gorse, is not often seen.

Open the "Do let the

Tally-ho!" he's gone, and away go three hounds all alone by themselves, "Hold hard.” "Let Mr. Payne come. gate." Beg your pardon." "This way, Payne." hounds come. Confound that farmer with his pony." "Now, sir, if you're going." And so we crossed the road. His first bend was towards Crick, and the hounds did not settle kindly. Such a set of hardriding vagabonds I never saw. Pace is the only thing to shake off your half-drunken clods with their fourteen-hand galloways; and we had to wait for it. Coming up to Crack's Hill another fox was viewed on his way back; but there was no mistake about our gentleman; for the hounds hit him off at the bottom of the hill, carried it slowly up, and then settled to him with a burst that would have gladdened the heart of an anchorite. Before we got to Winwick, or rather the bottom in which Winwick lies, we had disposed of a considerable number of all sorts. Lord Alford went down the hill like a shot; Mr. Villiers lost no time in looking for little places-indeed, they were difficult to find. Mr. II. Farquhar, on a little brown horse, gave some of his friends the slip, and went well throughout the run. Mr. Bromley is hard enough for anything, but not judicious in his choice of fences; he always drops upon the biggest. As we rose the hill towards Elkington and the canal, after a momentary check near Winwick, it was pretty plain that some more were getting their quant. suff. "Come along, Mason, down to the left-hand corner; we shall nick them there." no use trying to catch them, sir; I've got too much beef on. "There's Lord Henley over the drop at the bottom; and Lord Alford down at the fence beyond. You can't go that way, sir, you can't get over." "Don't tell me; I know better." They've turned again to the left, and now they're going over that large grass-field towards Welford. At this point there was a short check; but a few lucky shirkers had only just dropped in, when the hounds turned to the right across a road, over two stubbles, and set to work again in earnest. How am I to get out?" said Mr. Bromley. "Must I do it at a fly ?" "No there's nothing to do; you must walk over the bank and down it, and instead of a brook you will find yourself in a road." What a nice place for a man to dream of going at! We must then have been getting near our fox. We hunted him down a green lane, and turning suddenly to the right again, the hounds raced along a hedge-row in a turnip-field, next to the Naseby reservoir. "What's the meaning of this?" said Mr. Payne; "we must have met him going back.' The hounds threw up as suddenly as they had hit it off." By Jove, he's in the turnips." But the turnips were tried in vain. I think Mr. Payne would like to have tried the man who was at work in them too, and convicted him but he had

"It's

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