piece of old newspaper. He approached the door of my charmer's house, and, after a certain sort of masonic knock, procured admittance. I waited with breathless anxiety for his return. "Who lives there?" I enquired, placing a shilling in his hand. 66 Oh, two of the play-actor folks; Parker, that does the hornpipe in fetters, is one; and Miss Bell, that plays columbine, the other. I've just left a nice Pologne and a pot of stout for their supper." 66 Why, Percy! what has become of you?" shouted a voice which I recognized as Hook's. "Here's the Dean ready to pay his devoirs to the Bishop, which is smoking-hot in the Sun, and the Donningtonians are wondering at your absence." We immediately proceeded to Botham's, where I made every effort to drown care by quaffing many a bumper of the episcopal beverage. The result of this night's adventure must be reserved for a future chapter. SKETCHES FROM THE "HEYTHROP COUNTRY." BY LATITAT. If a writer on the "noble art of venerie' measures his own inability to illuminate his manuscript or the reader by a just appreciation of the labours and genius of others, he must nevertheless feel proud to look back-and certainly he will do so with wonder and admiration-on the glorious annals of our sporting literature, to those great minds which have shed a lustre upon the subject, leaving that brilliant which before was dark, reflected additional honour upon their station in society, and adorned and dignified their country. Nor will those names be forgotten which Fame, with her grey-goose quill, has written last upon the roll, the sable fluid scarcely dry which marked the written characters upon its latest page, and who still throw their pearls of goodly price into the scale in which the good old cause, still preponderating, hangs, to bear down the valueless materials and light gossamer weighed against it! As the sacred Nine, hallowed and honoured be those names. With propriety the young aspirant may pour his invocations to the former, with a much greater chance of being inspired and edified thereby. We adopt the generous sentiment of a writer in a late number of this periodical, who concludes his entertaining paper by hoping that it would be "read as he had written it, with a sportsman's feelings." Would that all men were actuated by the same noble impulse! Let their aim be to amuse, and if possible instruct, not by endeavouring to imitate and copy from the labours of others. If they wrote well, so much the better for us and posterity. Not wilfully to follow the example of the old thieving rook, who, when opportunity offers, purloins the sticks from its neighbour's nest, wherewith to build its own; nor pursue the beaten track of other travellers to the same destination; but, like a true pioneer, hew out a path for himself in a region yet undiscovered, if any such there be. In pursuit of such an object, if success did not crown his efforts, he would fall a "blessed martyr," or meet with that indulgence which a true and generous sportsman, a kind and kindred spirit, is ever ready to grant, when he has been candid enough to ask it. His imperfections "lean to Virtue's side" who feels plucky enough to fight like a Trojan for the cause, but unhappily lacks sufficient strength to pitch a spear into the midst of the battle. Nevertheless, we will endeavour to practice the precepts we have preached, if proving to be like the old dog-fox with a keeper's trap on his leg, unable to go ahead; as the game old fellow found, the other day, in Dean Grove, who being unable to run on four legs, made a good use of three, like the crippled hero of Chevy Chase: "Old Witherington, of whom 'tis said, He fought upon his stumps." The month of March ushered in abundance of sport to this neighbourhood, and with hunting and steeple-chasing we were as busy and bustling as a hive of bees in May. With regard to steeple-chasing, it seems rapidly becoming popular with most classes. It undoubtedly does, or will, form one of our common sports-whether for any lengthened period, remains to be seen; but of this we do not think it would be hazardous to prophecy. A freak of this sort now forms almost the principal item in the catalogue of sport in every provincial town in the kingdom. While in some they occur frequently, in others they only take place annually. The latter will be the result in many of the larger villages eventually. That this is a matter of congratulation, we are not prepared to admit, as, in our opinion, it is neither hunting nor racing. Although perhaps it may be allowed that, as it comes within the reach of the lower classes, and generally attracts and brings together a vast concourse of people of almost every grade, diffusing life, bustle, and goodwill amongst them, it gives an impetus to the "circulating medium," and may afford pleasure to those whose amusements have of late years been too much curtailed and overlooked-the more's the pity; although we can hardly coincide with the extreme opinions of a friend who once observed that, if his will was law, no hindrance or interruption should be made to any of their old pastimes, wakes, fairs, and holidays, together with bull-baiting, cock-fighting, and the rest. Reprobating the use of artificial contrivances to inflict torture, or to prepare them for a more deadly fight than Nature's law directs, we have occasionally been amused when two monarchs of the herd, or two cocks in a farm-yard, have "pitched into" one another for the championship. It may not be uninteresting to observe that, two centuries and more ago, the artificial spur and other refined contrivances were either unused or unknown. Nearly as they fought in the farm-yard they fought then in the cock-pit, until one or the other was exhausted, or showed the white feather and ran. An old author, praising this "recreation, its nobleness, delight, and simplicity, devoid of cheat or deceit," concludes with some sterling advice, which, if followed and reduced to practice generally in modern betting arenas, would be attended with great good. "And now I have one word of advice to him that is a lover, or would be so, of this royal sport, and then have done. Come not to the pit without money in your breeches, and a judgment of E matches. Done and Done, is cock-pit law; and if you venture beyond your pocket, you must look well to it, or you may lose an eye to the battle." But to resume. While the sports of the humbler classes prevailed unmolested, they had no desire to interfere with those of others. Let encouragement be given to their pastimes before it is too late, and we shall receive the like from them. Anything calculated to revive, support, or replace their amusements ought not to be overlooked in these variable and fox-killing days, if consistent with reason or the legitimacy of sport. The latter is a crime that can only be remedied in the manner suggested, and by the master of a hunt making a sufficient compensation when and where losses do really occur from foxes. We believe they are ever ready to do so on receiving a fair statement of the injury sustained. We will not go so far as to say that fox-killing is unknown in the Heythrop country, but certainly a fox-killer is. He knows full well the fate which a discovery of such an act would entail upon him, and hides his head in shame. That they are well preserved, the following fact amply verifies: In twenty-six years we have had but three blank days, and two of them were after most tempestuous nights, when, in all probability, the foxes were stopped in. It must be borne in mind, too, that for a four-day-a-week country the Heythrop is by no means a large one; and we cannot omit this opportunity of declaring publicly and decidedly that it possesses as many, if not more, real friends to the sport among all classes, high and low, as any country in Great Britain. The principal thing to be considered in a hunting country is the plentiful supply of foxes-a desideratum as important to it as food is to animal life, the ship to commerce, steam to the locomotive, sunshine and shower to the vegetable kingdom. Where they are scarce, where they are "few and far between," hunting is only a disappointment," a mockery, a delusion, and a snare." Where isolated portions of a people retain any of the characteristics of a former day, any of the spirit of their fathers, any vestige of that devotion they bore to the pastimes of their native land—and, thanks to the tuneful art of the minstrel, the spirit of other times are still existent in our old hunting songs and poetry: may it long live in English hearts also, "When the rustic race adored the chase, there is certainly an additional stimulus and pleasure given to a sportsman in his endeavour and anxiety to provide a sufficiency of game for the encouragement and maintenance of sport. It is greatly to be deplored that the exertions of persevering sportsmen in this respect should be discouraged and thwarted by the suicidal acts of a few who pursue these nefarious practices from a petty, vexatious, personal spite, or a a base selfish motive. With regard to the poacher, whose life is devoted to the planting and nourishment of a tree that bears only bitter fruit, instead of earning a livelihood by honest industry, it strikes us that he is not to any great extent implicated in these transactions. That most of them possess some sporting feeling towards the fox, and spurn the stigma of being thought vulpecides, we do fearlessly assert. Many foxes, without doubt, are crippled and killed in their traps and wires when laid for game; but we are charitable enough to believe, and feel justified in saying, that in most instances of this sort they are destroyed unintentionally, and not with "malice aforethought." We have observed the working of this spirit among the rural population, and have had as much intercourse and experience amongst them, probably, as most men. We have marked its existence and non-existence amongst members of the same family with opposite results, and reiterate again and again that want is not the index hand that points the poacher to his art as the sole means of subsistence. We have said. Having partly considered some of the facts of the case relating to the destruction of foxes, we cannot conclude without expressing our decided conviction that great numbers of foxes are destroyed through the negligence of earthstoppers generally in leaving earths too long unopened, whereby they are pent in and starved; at this season of the year, and in stony places and others, more especially and particularly. We now come to Charlbury, which Jem considers "a rare sporting little town, deserving encouragement." May the town and neighbourhood receive it, if continuing to deserve it by maintaining and providing "foxes plenty ;" and then may "Plenty, love, truth, and good grow In its days, and every man eat in safety and may he also receive a testimonial, now in the course of completion, commensurate with his worth, and live long to enjoy it, and be able to hunt as long as he wishes to do so, and when, to use his own characteristic expression, "unable to follow hounds here, and gone home with a hope of being present at the meet before his Great Master above," may he leave behind him "An heir as great in admiration as himself, There have been two steeple-races in this town recently; the last took place on the 15th of March. The principal race was between seven horses regularly hunted with Lord Redesdale's hounds, over three miles of fair hunting country. The others, for the sake of brevity, are omitted. As much enthusiasm prevailed among the several competitors as if running for the Derby. Mr. Lindow's b. m. Toothpick (Lawson) Captain Holloway's Yellow Dwarf (Owner) .... 123 In varying the subject, we beg to introduce the following anecdotetime, not many months ago; scene, a country village-when an amateur was exhibiting his diagrams and dissolving views, to elucidate some of the sciences, and with simple stage effect. During a pause in the performance, he peeped from behind a curtain and informed his audience that any alteration they might suggest should be duly attended to, when a waggish old gentleman immediately tuned out" I vote for a little musical interlude." Roars of laughter followed. Without further cere mony we make the same request. "We raise the song." Away to the chase. A HUNTING SONG. (ORIGINAL.) The sun has tipt yon eastern hills Morn dawns, and earth with gladness fills; The southern air, so pure and soft, Plays through the leafless trees, Rise, sportsmen! rise! the fox to-day The huntsman takes his tuneful horn, The unkennell'd hounds salute the morn, With gladsome voices, feet so free The master, happy as can be, Smiles on the enlivening scene. Along many a road and green grass lane, Like streams that run into the sea, At Bradwell Grove they meet in glee. Soon, sportsmen, soon the game we play, Ah, now they move; each eager hound "Yoick! yoick!" resounding rings. Now, sportsmen, now we join the fray. Warm hearts beat high, fierce eyes flash bright, Mad hounds dash onward in their flight, The battle joins, "Have at him there!" "Forward!" peals loud and shrill. |