Part 6

It is not unlikely that among the tenant farmers or freeholders of our lady's acquaintance may be one, who from age or "bad times" has been obliged to retire to a smaller sphere, but whose heart is still true to fox-hunting, and who would delight in being of use, if he only knew how. Such a man, mounted on an old pony, could be of the greatest service in a hunting country. He would follow in the track of the horsemen, shutting the gates they have invariably left open, and would have an eye on the perverse young horses and wandering sheep which do not "love the fold," but prefer to rush madly, like their betters, after the fascinations of a pack of hounds.

There may be instances in which the mistress of the hounds herself is content to "take a back seat" and to humbly watch her husband's prowess without emulating it, and in such a case she can do a good deal in the way of shutting gates, calling attention to stray stock, and noting damage done to fences and crops.

It is quite impossible for a master to see half the delinquencies committed by his field, though he is, of course, held responsible for them, but if the rearguard of the merry chase, so to say, was brought up by an official, whose business it was to detect the offenders who get off and "jump on top" of fences, it would be a cheaper and more satisfactory arrangement in the long run.

In a wet season it should be borne in mind that it hurts all crops to be ridden over, grass as well as arable, and therefore roads and headlands should be strictly adhered to when going from covert to covert. Any considerable damage should be apologised for, if possible at once, and if people were not so desperately afraid of paying for their amusement (because that amusement is called hunting), an acknowledgement given there and then to the sufferer would do him no harm, and the cause of fox-hunting a great deal of good. A season or two ago, a whole field of ardent (?) sportsmen in a crack country allowed themselves to be delayed for a long time bandying words at an occupation bridge, with a man who had "turned awkward," and who was completely in his rights within stopping the way if he chose.

It seems curious that among a hundred horsemen, worth among them, probably, as many thousands a year, no one seems to have been struck with the idea of producing a sovereign to pay for the cutting up of the grass that must follow the passage of such a squadron.

But perhaps we have dwelt too long on the seamy side of the duties of a mistress of hounds. Let us turn to the more agreeable contemplation of her pleasures.

Should she belong to a hunting family, she will have heard from her father, ever since she can remember, stories of the "brave days of old," of Meynell, and Musters, and the giants of those days. She will have learnt to sing "Osbaldeston's voice, reaching the heavens, boys," to repeat the "Billesdon Coplow" and "Ranksborough Gorse," and in the intervals of schoolroom lessons she will have been taken to see packs now, perhaps, become historical.

If a dweller in the North Country, the name of Ralph Lambton will be familiar to her; and in the South, legends of John Ward and Mr Farquharson of Badminton, and Berkeley, have been the delight of her youth.

Should she be fortunate enough to live in "the Shires" she may, from an early age, have looked up at the towers of Belvoir, where hunting and hospitality are a byword and a delight, and she may just remember the glories of Quorn, and Sir Richard, of Lord Henry, and the Burton, like Mr Bromley Davenport,

"Nourishing a verdant youth, With the fairy tales of gallops, ancient runs devoid of truth."

The kind cheery voices of Captain Percy Williams and Mr Anstruther Thomson, always indulgent and encouraging to young people, may have fostered her natural love of the chase, and she may, while hunting with the former, have imbibed some idea of riding, from the sight of the celebrated Dick Christian handling the young horses at Rufford.

She will have looked with a reverential awe at blind Mr Foljambe of Osberton, who was able to judge of any hound by the sense of touch, long after that of sight was denied him, and who still hunted led by a groom.

Perhaps a little private hunting with beagles, or foxhound puppies, may have given our future mistress an interest in individual hounds, their treatment and characteristics, so that by-and-by, when she has to do with things on a larger scale, it is easier for her to know one hound from another, and to appreciate their differences, than if she had never seen less than seventeen or eighteen couple together.

Very likely it may have been her dream from childhood to marry a Master of Hounds, so when, as the old song says,--

"A young Country Squire requested her hand, Whose joy 'twas to ride by her side, So domestic a prospect what girl could withstand, She became, truly willing, his bride."

Then would follow the interest of making acquaintance with the country, with all classes of people in it, with the coverts, lanes, and bridle-paths, the lovely little bits that most people never see at all, to say nothing of the pleasant companionship of hounds, horses, and hunt-servants.

Captain Percy Williams's advice to a young M. F. H. was, "Stay at home with your wife and your hounds," but how can a man do so, if his wife is all agog to drag him to London or abroad directly the hunting season is over? Hounds should be a summer as well as a winter pastime, but whether they are so or not depends almost entirely on the wife of their possessor.

When all is said and done, two people who are young, happy, and like-minded, can scarcely find an enjoyment greater than that of going out hunting together with their own hounds. To be starting on a nice horse, on a fine morning, for one long day of happiness, is a delight that can only be enhanced by sharing it with a kindred soul, and best of all if that soul is a husband's.

Then the greetings from all classes at the meet, the feeling of giving pleasure to so many, the pride in the hounds, and the skill of the huntsman, tempered though it be with anxiety for the success of the day's sport, all go to warm the heart and fire the imagination as nothing else does.

And as the hours pass imperceptibly, and the brown woods open their vistas, and yellowing pastures alternate with dark hedgerows, and the chiming of hounds with the distant holloas, there is the anticipation of an

"Oak Room with a blazing fire To end a long day's ride, And what to them is chance and change While they sit side by side."

Years afterwards, when many other things have turned to bitterness or disappointment, comrades of the hunting field will be a solace and a pleasure to each other, and the mistress of the hounds, when no longer following their cry, will be with them in spirit, will be interested to the points of each run, the performance of each pack, and her heart will ever beat true to

"The friends for whom, alive or dead, her love is unimpaired; The mirth, and the adventure, and the sport that they have shared."

LINA CHAWORTH MUSTERS.

FOX-HUNTING.

"The sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt, and only five-and-twenty per cent of its danger."

There are many ladies very well qualified to write a valuable paper on the art of riding over a country, but, possibly, the following short sketch--from the hunting more than the riding point of view--may be of interest, as I am sorely afraid ladies are sometimes apt to forget the presence of the hounds, and little consider the trouble and anxiety it takes to bring into the field a really efficient pack.

Some masters may have the good fortune to start with a ready-made and perfect pack of hounds--a most perishable possession--as a very short time of unintelligent management will reduce the finest pack in the kingdom to a comparatively worthless one--but the majority have to begin from the bottom for themselves.