scent of a fox, but could not make him clearly out. However, we stood no dilly-dallying, but trotted down to Thorpe; and immediately a fine fellow put the hounds upon their mettle, and went away at a terrible pace to Shuttington. A slight check here enabled us to put our appointments to rights. Three-quarters of an hour's slow hunting, over a heavy country with stiff bullfinches, brought us to the town of Atherstone. Reynard, to avoid the toll-gate, passed through the upper end of the town in the direction of Orton Gorse; but, taking second thoughts, he bore away for Ratcliff; and from thence to Sibson Woulds. The scene at this point was indescribable. We had been running upwards of three hours! Men were leading along their horses, dead beat. Robert, the huntsman, had knocked his up, and mounted a second, little fresher than his own: our gallant fox was as regularly knocked up as we: and the hounds could scarcely crawl after him. At last we came in sight of Bosworth and pug, beat to a dead stand-still, was walked into in the open: the pack being so much distressed that they were literally unable to worry him! A more extraordinary run than this, is not, perhaps, in the annals of sporting. We rode through three counties: and the time from find to finish was exactly three hours and forty minutes!

Dear N. S. M., yours ever,

MIDLANDER.

THE WORCESTERSHIRE HUNT.-Captain Candler's hounds had a most brilliant run on the 18th; they met at Ombersley village, with a very large field, and after trying several covers, found in a small spiny near Westwood Park, and the pack went away close at pug's brush, running mute, and the pace so great that no horse could live with him. After a most brilliant burst of an hour, they ran into him, in the parish of Shenstone; Murton, the whip, and another only, out of upwards of 120, being near the pack, and these had never viewed the leading hounds from start to finish.

THE PYTCHLEY HOUNDS.-We are happy to hear that good sport still attends these hounds; they had one of the finest hunting runs on Monday last ever seen in that country, and killed in the Leicestershire country-time, one hour and twenty minutes. They found their fox in the famed Waterloo Gorse, and the hero which had beaten them after a good run in the early part of the season, but which now took a different line, by Marsden Wood, and nearly to Bosworth Cover, then bore to the right, over the canal, into the Quorndon country, where they killed, and instantly started after a fresh one, from which they were with difficulty stopped, and brought back to enjoy the reward of their labours, and quickly snapped him up.

On Monday the 15th, Mr. Mure's hounds had a capital run of one

hour and twenty minutes, at a good hunting pace. They met at Cheveley, found at Wedgham Wood, took a long ring over a very heavy country, and lost at Trundley.

THE ABERYSTWITH HUNT WEEK closed on Saturday the 30th of January, and, we are glad to hear, to the entire satisfaction of all parties concerned. The runs were excellent; the steeple-chases well contested; and the attendance at the balls and dinners both numerous and respectable. W. Lewis, Esq., and P. Pryse, Esq., the stewards, were indefatigable in their exertions, and gave the most complete satisfaction to the assembled sportsmen.

MEET ME BY MOONLIGHT.-The Slaley and Prudhoe hounds had a slapping thing t'other day of two hours, without a check, and finished by running into their fox by the light of the moon. Out of a field of nearly a hundred, eight only showed at last "by the grove at the end of the vale."

The noble stag that afforded such excellent sport to the hunters last year, and which was rescued from the waves of Watchet, was found dead in the wood near Mr. Esdaile's, at Cothelston, last week.

THE OLD SURREY FOX-HOUNDS AND THEIR HUNTSMAN.

Our old friend Tom Hills, after twenty-one years work with these hounds, has retired from office, with his honours thick about him. But we are sorry to hear his purse is not quite so well-filled as his table. He has a wife and twelve children to support; and, with that view, has taken a public house, the Plough, at Bletchingly, where we trust many of his old followers in the chase will still find means to patronize him. Our publisher, Mr. Ackermann, of Regent-street, has, with his usual kind-heartedness, offered his services as Tom's agent, and any gentleman who may be desirous of giving him a lift in his new undertaking, will thus be afforded an opportunity of doing so without further trouble to himself.

DEATH OF TOM ROUNDING.

Old Tom Rounding, the "Father of the Forest," is no more. He died on the 16th January, aged 79. There were few finer sportsmen of the "good old school" left than honest Tom; and his private worth at least equalled his ardour in the chase. His funeral cortége, consisting of four mourning carriages, conveyed as chief mourners, Messrs. T. W. and R. Rounding, Major Walter, Messrs. G. and T Barnard, Messrs. Green, Wells, and Browne; and at half-past three o'clock, in the presence of a large assemblage of the parishioners, were deposited in Woodford churchyard, the remains of this respected and truly honourable man.