I wish I was a little nearer! We shall soon be on the plough; and in this dry weather the fallows must surely bring them to hunting. In the meantime they are streaming away uninterfered with by a single soul, and looking to my distant vision like black dots dancing in the sunshine. Percy is manfully cutting out the work a field behind them, closely pursued by one of the parsons and a soldier-officer, name unknown. The field, headed by an angel in a habit, are clattering down a turnpike-road parallel with the line of chase; and fain would I be even amongst them. Cutting against the clear blue sky, the distant spires of a cathedral town two-and-twenty miles from my residence are becoming distinctly visible; and were it not that the ground is so hard— horses, when once warm, feel little or no distress-I should pull up in despair. Now they check on the opposite hill, and the twang of a horn wafts consolation to the unfortunates who have lost all knowledge of their whereabouts. But it is only to lure us further on. And being joined by my worthy friend Sloman, whom I discover vainly labouring to extract a stake from the only creeping place in a fence, we canter socially on in happy ignorance of our ultimate destination. Now we ride to hats and now to guesses, now by ear and now by instinct—the latter a property bountifully awarded by Nature to those whose nerves are not equal to their fondness for the chase; and at length, just as we think we have lost them altogether, a turn in a friendly lane brings us within a quarter of a mile of a posse of scarlet coats, all huddled up in the corner of a field, every man off his horse, and gesticulating as if his life depended on his oratory. They have killed their fox; and I can see, even at that distance-by the wildness of my nephew's action, and the way in which his horse's legs are all stuck out in different directions -that Percy has had the best of it from end to end. An hour and twenty minutes-nine miles as the crow flies-pace good throughout— and the thermometer at forty-seven in the shade. Poor old Veteran!

The evening was glorious. Our homeward way lay right through Battersby Chase, and Lucy actually wanted to go down and see the place where my foolish nephew had leapt the brook; of course, with our tired horses, I would not hear of any such absurdity. As we jogged along in the balmy atmosphere-for the wind had got round to the west, and it was real May-I thought Percy was wonderfully quiet and subdued. I never knew him silent, from a boy, but what he was meditating mischief; and having lagged behind while Miss Dart's servant extracted a stone from Clasher's foot, I am much mistaken if, when I overtook the pair at a turn in the road, my scapegrace of a nephew had not got his arm round Lucy's waist.

Be this as it may, that sweet girl's manner to me was more winning than ever; and though Percy was very stupid, I never enjoyed so delightful a ride. It was dark when we passed old Dart's gate; and that foolish boy must needs drop his filthy cigar-case just as we parted with our fair charge, and go back and look for it. No wonder we did not sit down to dinner till nearly nine o'clock.

Percy was off next morning by daybreak; and old Sloman calling upon parish business after breakfast, we went into the stable to look at Veteran. A skeleton supported by four mill-posts would not inaptly represent the condition of my favourite. Sloman thinks my nephew is making "oop," as he calls it, to Lucy Dart. I should like to catch him at it!

A few mornings after the day's sport described in your last number, I went again to hunt with these hounds in the Forest de Sezanne, a large woodland district to the left of the forest where we killed the boar which I have been speaking about. The rendezvous was at the head guard's, in the middle of the forest; a sort of farm-house with plenty of accommodation for the piqueurs, hounds, and horses, which went on overnight to be in readiness. The Count d'A-- was also there with his pack of French hounds, consequently the canine forces were about as numerous as upon the last occasion. Upon the piqueurs coming up at the appointed time, we learnt with sad dismay, that after having tried with the limiers in every direction since daylight, they had not been able to discover any traces whatever of either boars or wolves, and that in all probability this most inauspicious morning must be recorded as a blank. Those faces which but a few moments before were beaming with hope and radiant with expectation, suddenly became almost livid with despair; you might have almost fancied that the whole party had eaten some poisonous root, substituted for the trufles used in the composition of the substantial game paté which had graced the forestial breakfast table; even the cigar, that never failing resource to nineteen sports. men out of twenty, when cheated of their pastime, either by a sudden snow storm on a hunting morning, driving down in most vexatious fury within one mile of the place of meeting, or any other untoward event, seemed to have entirely lost its consolatory efficacy: no one smoked, nor talked, nor smiled; the horses nibbled the withered leaves, as they stood with the slack reins on their drooping necks, and seemed to participate in the mournful feelings of their disconsolate riders: when suddenly one of the forest "guards," who lived at some short distance, arrived, and informed the Master of the hounds that there was a twoyear-old boar lying in a certain quarter of the forest, about two miles distant, and that he was certain he was there, for that he himself had tracked him and harboured him that morning, not more than two hours before he set off for the rendezvous. Oh! upon what trifling circumstances does everything connected with all our sports and pastimes depend the mere presence of this peasant, dressed in his blouse, and adorned with the glittering badge of his forestial duties, had suddenly changed the winter of our discontent into glorious summer; that little group of sportsmen who but one moment before rivalled in their dismal looks the mutes at a funeral on a wet morning, and whose spirits were

A A

as flat as the green water in the forest ditch, suddenly became as lively

and effervescent as one of Monsieur Moet's bottles of Champagne;
the mere words un gros gros sanglier, de deux cents cinquante
livres, je pense," as if by magic had dissipated all their cares, their
fears, and gloomy forebodings. The only response to the intelligence
was, "Where the devil is he?" and the Master of the pack and his
piqueurs having been well instructed by this welcome messenger of
sport as to the boar's whereabouts, his entry, and his soil, were soon en
route for the locality, which was only distant about two short miles
from the rendezvous. Upon this occasion we were all à cheval; the
majority of the sportsmen were mounted upon what would be considered
in England neat, good, useful-looking park hacks. The narrator of
these little "Rough Sketches," also, I beg to observe, even if he would not
have passed muster on the first Monday in November at Kirby Gate,
cut a most respectable figure upon the occasion, at least no one of the
party were so rude as to tell him that they thought otherwise. Perched
up upon a great Roman-nosed animal, of sixteen hands and a half high,
with a neck like a giraffe, and with regular parade action, and seated
in a demipeaked saddle, with a very smart Hussar bridle to match, he
had undergone the danger and fatigue of riding some eighteen miles to
the rendezvous, on that eventful morning, upon this horse (the only
one to be procured for love or money), hired as he was from the keeper
of the omnibus in the little town where he was then staying. Yes,
reader, you may laugh at the turn out if you like; but I don't see why
you should; this great half French half Mecklenburgh carriage-horse
performed his work exceedingly creditably; he trotted about the forest
rides during the chase, and enabled his rider to see all the fun, and
carried him safe home again at night. If he had a demipeaked saddle
on his back, and champed the bit of a military bridle, it was no fault
of his, but the fault of his master who rigged him out in them, and de-
clared that he had no other to put upon him; that he was always ridden
in them, and that the gentlemen who were in the habit of hiring him
thus caparisoned admired the turn-out exceedingly, and considered it
quite a merveille. Although the party were all à cheval, the greater
part of them carried the small double rifle at the pommels of their
saddles, which I before mentioned. As for myself, I did not much care
about shooting at the boar in chase, and La Verdure had very oblig-
ingly promised to hand me his gun if the boar came to bay, and if I
was up and ready to give him the coup de grace. He was soon found
when we arrived at the spot to which the forest guard had so diligently
conducted us, and after the hounds had rattled him round the large
cover several times with what appeared to be a good holding scent, he
broke away, crossing the wide forest ride, close to where I was watching
him. He was a splendid animal, and by his light deer-like action
seemed as if he would prove as difficult a customer to handle and bring
to bay, as if he had just been turned out of one of Her Majesty's deer-
carts at Maidenhead Thicket. People who have never seen a real wild
boar of two years old, and who may perhaps despise him, and consi-
der him at best a pig, can have no idea at what a pace he can go, and
maintain it too for an hour or upwards, even in an open country, with
a good pack of hounds at his heels. They might fancy, perhaps, that
a handful of foxhounds, if they had any run in them at all, would go

like shot into him at once: I can only say if that is their idea they will find themselves mistaken. I have seen a boar myself, as was the case to-day, as well as upon other occasions, run clear away from hounds; and have heard extraordinary accounts from other persons corroborative of the same thing. With a burning scent, and no impediment, a mere handful of good hounds, which were so drawn as to run together, would no doubt bring the stoutest boar to bay in half an hour, but experientia docet must be the motto; let any one try to do it who fancies otherwise, and he will find that with an average pack of hounds, a two-year-old sanglier in an average forest will take as much killing as a good many stout woodland foxes.

As soon as the boar had got clear into a fresh quarter of the forest, and shaken off his tormentors, it was evident that the scent was not so good as at first might be surmised, when the hounds were close to their chase; difficulties ensued; the boar ran short, roe deer jumped up right and left; five couples of the foxhounds, moreover, found their own natural game, and scoured away at a pace by themselves that would not have disgraced even Geddington Chase, or Bruern Wood. I happened to be riding widish to the left at the time, and saw bold renard come into a wide forest road, with the five couples close at him : I had no power to get to the head of them and stop them, as when I cracked my whip my charger pranced about like Mr. Merryman's nag at a fair; so I let them go, and as they came back with clean mouths, I conclude they either lost him, or ran him to ground in some of the deep earths, with which these impenetrable forests abound. The rest of the pack amused themselves with roe deer scents for some time, and gave the piqueurs a good deal of trouble to stop them, and put them in couples. At last all the hounds were got together, and it was resolved to draw fresh for the boar, who was supposed to be rasé, or squatted down close at hand. This surmise proved true; he was found again, and after another half hour's ringing about, lost in the same manner. The forest was then tried in every direction without any successful results. It came on to pour with rain, and we went home, praying and hoping that this splendid sanglier was left for a better day's sport.

Before I proceed further, I must tell you that no less than eleven shots were fired by different sportsmen at the boar in the course of the morning, without any visible effects; but when a rascally poacher went in search of him the next morning, and easily destroyed him by the assistance of his cur-dog, it was discovered that two balls had entered his neck, and that although they had not been sufficient to stop him at the time, the loss of blood, and weakness which ensued, rendered him an easy conquest, ignominious as his end really was. If the scent had been better, and if the two packs had run better together, which I very much doubt to be a possible thing, always having a decided objection to mixing packs together, especially when the natures of two animals are at so decided a variance as English foxhounds and French tou-tous, the result might have been different: but the French hounds never will go to the cry, nor crowd on to press the animals in chase. I remember upon this occasion seeing several couples of the French lot hanging and chattering on the line, instead of flying to the cry of the leading hounds, which had just gone over a ride with the boar, at which the

Marquis de B, who was one of the party that morning, had then shot at and missed. I rode to them, and tried gently to put 'em on to the rest. "Ah," said the Marquis, "that's the very worst vice our French hounds have; they never will go to the cry, or try to carry a-head like your English foxhounds; I fear your whip will not move them; they want to learn the meaning of one of your veritable English tally-hos.' The Marquis, who was a man somewhat advanced in years, appeared to be a tolerably good sportsman, from the conversation I had with him; he was a great lover of horses, rode a goodish nag himself, and was evidently a good judge of horseflesh he told me of all the sights he longed most to see in England were the two great horse fairs, viz., Horncastle and Howden.

During the short time I resided in this neighbourhood, I went over to look at another lot of hounds, hardly enough to be called a pack, which are kept by the Count M-; the number is only about eight couple ; I never saw them at work, but only in their kennel, in the neigh bourhood of Epernay: I must confess, to my taste, they looked very like business. They are bred between the English foxhound and the old large French hound, and although the symmetry of the sires and dams of foreign extraction has much improved the general appearance of their points, they still retain a good deal of the old staghound-looking character about them; such as long, sensible-looking heads, and leathery chops. They hunt the lower part of the Forest D'Enghien, and the Forest de Conteroi. The Count also keeps a small pack of hounds, expressly to hunt roe deer; the hounds used for this purpose, as the piqueur assured me, are descended from a race of French hounds, originally bred between the harrier and French pointer, and I must say that their appearance fully bore out the assertion. They had the short, flat head of the pointer, with the long pendant ears of the hound; the eye full, the ribs round, the coat remarkably smooth, stern fine, highish on the leg, and not particularly good and straight in those parts, their mouse-like coats of a brownish lemon-pied colour. The kennel is at a place called the Pavilion, which is a building half-chateau half-farm. This place is the Count's general rendezvous for the chase; there are two or three good rooms for the accommodation of the chasseurs, ornamented with some tolerably well-executed al fresco tableaux of the chase, savouring of the ludicrous. The Pavilion is situated in the centre of a small lawn of some twenty acres, in the middle of the forest, so that the sportsmen have seldom much time wasted in proceeding from the rendezvous to the spot where their day's sport generally

commences.

As I was about to return to England at the beginning of October, the Count de la- asked me if I would try to procure him some more foxhounds to strengthen his pack, as some of those which he had purchased in London during the summer did not enter well to boar. Now these which he already had were not draft hounds, but purchased at Tattersall's, at a tolerably high figure, in lots, from a well-known pack of some standing, which it will be remembered came to the hammer at that time. This, then, is one convincing proof that the steadiest foxhounds in the world, when taken from their natural game, to hunt some other animal quite foreign to their tastes, or, what is more likely, in direct contradiction to the educa