Muff, in the most patronising way to our gasping and perspiring sportsman. "I thought it must be a heavy-weight pack, as none of you were up with

them."

"Up with them!" gasped Trumper, "I wish you would ride about your business, and leave our hounds to themselves."

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Why, my good fellow," replied Muff, turning his horse to the now assembled field, "I was doing you an absolute service. I viewed the hare, and laid your beagles on to her."

"Beggles!" vociferated Trumper, " Beggles," repeated he, as if he was going to be sick; "Where the deuce do you use any beggles here?"

"Them's harriers," observed Hobbletrot, with the utmost contempt, muttering something about "d—d frenchified" something that sounded rather like "fool."

"Well, but my good fellow, let me make my cast perfect, at all events," continued Muff, who had been studying Mr. Smith's patent "all-roundmy-hat" cast in the "Diary of a Huntsman" that morning.

"You know I know something about hunting, Tom Scott," continued he, appealing to our friend with the familiar "Tom," instead of the distant "Mr." he uses on ordinary occasions, when he is coming it grand.

"Indeed I don't," replied Tom, nettled at his

meanness, and unable to resist the temptation of having a shy at him too.

"That's right, Mr. Scott! speak your mind like a man!" exclaimed Trumper, slapping his whip down his boot.

"Not about fox-hunting, at all events," continued Scott, thinking to qualify his answer.

"And I'm sure he knows nothing about harehunting," ejaculated Tom Hobbletrot, determined not to let Muff off.

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But, my good men," minced Muff, with the greatest effrontery, throwing back his registered paletot, and showing a profusion of trinkets appended to his glittering watch chain, at the same time sticking out a great leather-covered leg—

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my good men," repeated he," at all events, you must admit, that but for me you would have seen no more of your hare; your little dogs could hardly own the scent when I capped them away close at her scut."

"D-n you and your capping," roared Tom Hobbletrot, unable to restrain himself at hearing Muff take credit to himself for losing him his hare; you've lost us our hare, Sir, instead of helping us to catch her."

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"That's because you interrupted me when I was making my cast," retorted Muff.

"Cast!" screamed Trumper, "you hallooed us away to a fresh hare."

"Fresh hare!" sneered -Muff" fresh hare,"

repeated he, shrugging up his shoulders, and throwing out a primrose coloured kid-gloved hand," my good fellow, do you suppose I'm such a fool as not to know a fresh hare from a hunted one?"

Yes, ar do," roared Tom; "I don't think you know nothin about one except you see her in the soup plate."

"Silly man! silly man!" simpered Muff; "If this is not the hunted hare, I'm

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Well, Mr. Muff, it don't argufy a bit," interrupted Trumper, whose choler had been subsiding as the other's had been getting up; don't argufy a bit, Sir," repeated he; "the hunted hare is back. I saw her make for the hills as we came to your halloo. I tell you how it is, Sir! I tell you how it is, Sir!" his anger rising again as he spoke, "You are a fox-hunter, Sir -no objection at all to fox-hunters, Sir-none whatever; Mr. Neville's an excellent man, Sir -can't be a better-always most civil to me when I go out with his hounds, Sir; but I never présume to halloo, Sir. If I see a fox, Sir, I hold up my hat, Sir; never think of hunting the hounds, Sir. Glad to see Mr. Neville, or any of his gentlemen out, Sir, with our hounds, Sir, but I hope they'll do the same when they come, Sir-hope they'll do the same when they come, Sir. Now, Sir you've lost us our hare, Sir," continued he, "so I'll bid you good morning, Sir-I'll bid you good

morning, Sir, and we'll go home to dinner, Sir— we'll go home to dinner, Sir."

So saying, Mr. Trumper made Mr. Muff a bow, and diving into his bed-gown pocket for the horn, gave it a twang, and, having gathered his hounds, retraced his way through the turnips.

"He'll cut his stick now," observed Mr. Trumper, looking over his shoulder as he got to the gate to see where Muff was.

"We'll just try and see if we can recover the hunted hare," added he, looking at his watch, and seeing it was a little past one.

"That Mr. Muff," continued he, jogging on, half to himself and half to any one that would listen to him, "is the most disagreeable man I know; he's eternally teaching somebody something. He thinks, because he rides in scarlet, that he's fit for a huntsman, whereas, saving Mr. Scott's presence," said he, looking at Scott,." I really believe there are more fools in scarlet than in any other colour. I'd rather have laid in bed all day, a thing I detest after sunrise," continued Trumper, "than have asked him to join our hunt, for he's certain to make a mess if he comes. He's just one of those sort of daft bodies that can't hold their tongues, and must always be doing. Gently, Cottager-good dog," added he; "I know where she is better than that," continued he to Cottager, who was feathering on the grassy side of the road. "If that stupid

man had hallooed them fox dogs away," continued Trumper, "as he did ours, there'd have been an end of the thing; but there's one great advantage of hare-hunting, that you need never give her up never as long as a hound can own the scent." "And when they can't, you begin to prick her, don't you?" asked Scott.

"That's as may be," replied Mr. Trumper; " We never dig her out, at all events!”

"She does'nt give you a chance," replied Scott, as Trumper hastened to conclude the dialogue by getting out of hearing.

They soon reached the fallow where puss and they had parted company, and certainly it seemed a most unpromising speculation trying to recover her. Even the redoubtable Twister and Towler could make nothing of it, though she was plain enough to prick where the water had left a sandy wash on the furrow ends of the poor, undrained land.

Trumper's keen eye saw these plainly enough, though his paternal affection made him anxious to transfer the credit of the feat to the noses of the now mute pack.

At length even pricking failed.

Puss, with a tact often displayed by hunted animals, had selected an enclosure so cold, so bleak, so barren that nothing but a few water-weeds grew