took the bit in his teeth, rushed at the fence twenty miles an hour, chested the bank, and both horse and rider fell heavily into the next field; Mr. Dooley, who had been racing with Captain S., taking the fence cleverly, as the latter rose from the ground, a good deal shaken by his fall.

sport

Three fields further on we came to the river in which the " ing buck" had taken refuge from "her rival persecuthors," as the Irish schoolmaster has it. Captain Soolivan was one of the first to come up; and, on his arrival, Mr. "Jamesie Dooley," who had gone right well throughout, turned to him and said, "By Jasus, Soolivan, I exceeded you over four finces."

I never saw a more savage expression than that of the Captain's face, as he replied, "May the divil blisther ye, Jamesie Dooley, but I'll be even wid ye yet, never fear; and you," turning to his horse, "and you, ye unlucky baste, to go put me down that away, and let that bosthoon Dooley win the hunt from me-bad luck to ye.'

Every one, as I said before, was highly pleased with the day's sport. So, after seeing the deer secured, cigars were lighted and we all started homewards. On our return to we found that a friend of my host's had arrived on a visit during our absence. A Mr. Burke, of the Co. Galway, whose domain is situated near the ancient town of Tchume (erroneously spelt Tuam in the guide books, and so pronounced by ignorant Saxons). He was a jolly, goodhumoured, middle-sized man, of about fifty, would talk of fox-hunting by the hour together, being an ex-master of hounds, was a most uncompromising protectionist, and hated both the papists and the poor-laws most cordially. After dinner we had much conversation about fox-hunting; he told me of some extraordinary runs with the Galway "Blazers." I told him of some of the best hunting establishments in England, and of runs that I had really seen with them. At last he turned towards me, and, looking me steadily in the face, said slowly and impressively, "It is all very fine, talking of your great establishments in England, and of the expense you go to you have seen a good deal of Irish hunting-but tell me now, after all the money you spend on your hounds, don't you think we have finer and wilder hunting in this country?"

What could I say? To argue with such a man was worse than useless; but the "fine, wild " run of that morning rising to my recollection, I laughed as I answered, "Really, Mr. Burke, if you want my candid opinion, I do not." My host at that moment suggested the propriety of retiring to bed; and, anxious to avoid a discussion of the comparative merits of Irish and English hunting, I gladly took the hint. Thus ended my day with the "Sporting Buck."

ENGRAVED BY E. HACKER, FROM A PAINTING BY A. Cooper, R.A.

We have here Abraham Cooper on one of his favourite themes--the trigger-in a group of portraits from the kennel of a gentleman who would prefer not having his name mentioned. We can guarantee, how

с с

ever, his being a sportsman, as well as the portraits worthy of the place we give them.

The pointer bitch in the centre of the plate was bred in the sporting county of York, and got by a very celebrated dog of the late Sir John Lister Kaye's, out of an almost equally famous bitch of Sir Charles Tempest's sort. We wish we had the opportunity of saying something more on the result of this cross, but we believe she is as good as she looks.

The spaniels, quite as handsome in their way, are of Earl de Grey's breed; his Lordship, we are told, originally obtaining his from the Woburn kennels, and these again tracing back to Lord Jersey. They are now almost extinct in Lord de Grey's kennels, but his Grace of Bedford has still some of the pure breed. We are unable to define exactly what this variety is, but have little doubt, if persevered with, they may rank in time with other highly-prized specimens it has become a pride in many of our old families to associate with their houses: the King Charles, for instance, with the Duke of Norfolk, the Blenheim with the Churchills, and the Clumbers with the Newcastle coronet.

The holiday folk before us are recommended as hunting quite mute, ready to face any furze or thicket, however strong; as being very game and enduring, and with the further advantage that they require no breaking. They range round you in remarkably good style at a distance of from fifteen to twenty yards, and never desire to break off. They are particularly valuable for close hard cover-shooting, and so perhaps seen to more real advantage when at work than at play.

"GRAND FINISH" OF THOMAS SMITH, ESQ.,

AND

THE LAST DAY OF THE SEASON WITH THE HAMBLEDON

HOUNDS.

"The Hambledon Hounds will meet on Monday, at Horndean Gate; Wednesday, at Shidfield; Friday, at Corhampton Down; Saturday (A GOOD-BYE DAY'), at Broadhalfpenny Down, at a quarter before eleven.”— From the “ Hampshire Chronicle" of March 27th, 1852.

"What the deuce have we here?" said I, placing the newspaper in which I had just read the above announcement on the breakfast-table before me.

"Saturday," continued I, in a half soliloquy, and half addressing an old friend who happened to be staying with me at the time; "Saturday was generally a 'bye day' with the Hambledon-but then it was never advertised; besides, I think that my friend Smith is taking a good deal upon himself, thus to foretell that it will be a 'good' bye day. Suppose, after all, it should prove blank; what a laugh there will be at his expense !"

No," continued I, smoothing down my chin-(what a pity 'tis we don't wear beards !)-"no, Tom Smith-or Gentleman' Smith, as he is most appropriately often called-is too old a bird to expose himself to be pelted with chaff'; depend upon it, there is more in this paragraph than is dreamt of in our philosophy;"" and I forthwith handed the mysterious document to my companion.

You may be a philosopher," said Staveley, with a most provokingly intelligent smile, but, old fellow, you have most assuredly proved yourself no conjuror; it is evident that this is a little jeu de mots, implying that it is to be likewise a good-bye,' or farewell day. But although, of course, aware of his being a mighty hunter,' I had no idea that your friend Tom Smith was such a wit, as to be capable of perpetrating this atrocious pun!"

"Tom Smith," replied I, "is capable of anything; he is an author, an artist, an architect: he is, in fact, everything, but more particularlyas all the world knows-a first-rate sportsman, and a capital fellow to boot."

"And have you long known this incomparable mortal?" inquired my companion.

"Yes, many years; and our acquaintance commenced in rather a curious manner, which I will tell you, if you feel inclined to listen to a 'yarn'."

Staveley expressed himself desirous of hearing my story; which I commenced as follows, in the old "story-telling" strain:

"Many years ago, I used to hunt with the Hambledon Hounds; I was in those days younger, and rode rather wilder than I now do in my old age. Well, I had then a most remarkable mare-I called her Very Lively'and lively enough, in all conscience, she was. No day was too long for her, and no jump too high, provided she was allowed to take it in her own way-always at a fly; never had she made a mistake, and never till the day I became acquainted with Tom Smith, had she ever felt the touch of either whip or spur.

66

'On that day, the hounds-on good terms with their fox-were going across a close country at a slapping pace. Very Lively,' jostled by an awkward fellow at a weak point in a stiff fence, made her first 'faux pas-it was certainly only "a very little one," as said Captain Marryatt's lady's maid; however, to recover her, I had to lift her with both bit and spur. This indignity her proud spirit could not brook; she threw up her head, took the bit between her teeth, and for a time, was beyond all management and control.

"There was but one practicable outlet to the field, across which she was flying at the very top of her speed-and that was a stiff five-barred gate, over and under which the whole pack was streaming as I approached. All my efforts to turn, or stop her, were of no avail. I saw, on nearing the gate, that I had only a single remaining chance. I gave her her head; I gave her, at the same time, both whip and spur. She shot past the foremost horseman, who had just pulled up-and then, like a rocket shot over the gate, taking also the whole pack at a single stride-with three hounds struggling at the time over the topmost bar-and without touching a single hair!

"By the time I had succeeded in somewhat pacifying my irate and fiery steed, the quondam foremost horseman' was by my side.

"It is not often, sir,' observed he, that I like to see a man go before me over a gate; but. I should have been very sorry to have been before you just now!'

6

"Well, this was my first acquaintance with Tom Smith; and I should like much to see this his last good-bye day,' if such indeed it is meant to be. What say you? Are you game for a gallop with the Hambledon Hounds, next Saturday, from Broadhalfpenny Down?”

Staveley readily entered into my plan. Our arrangements were soon made, and at the appointed day we found ourselves punctually at the meet. A glorious sun-quite a "soleil d'Austerlitz"-shone brilliantly on the numerous field then assembled at Broadhalfpenny Down. Men came from far and near, to witness the last "finish" of their veteran sportsman chief-to hear the last "whoop" of the man who had so often afforded them recreation, health, and sport-who had so often been the means of baulking their doctors of the accustomed fee! We mustered about a hundred and fifty strong, in scarlet and black and green. All the "beauty and fashion" of Hambledon-no contemptible display of both-were on the ground; and several ladies, appropriately equipped for the chase-amongst whom shone the fair Huntress of South Hants"-came likewise to participate in the toils and pleasures of the expected sport.

Many a long day had passed since I had had a turn with my old Hambledonian friends and so engaged was I in greeting a host of well-remembered faces, that I had little leisure to bestow for scrutinizing the present establishment of the "Hambledon Hounds." I, however, missed an acquaintance of "auld lang syne:"-Squires, and also the second Whip of former days. Champion, the present head Whip, had all the appearance of being of the proper sort: light, wirey, activemade, and was said to be a first-rate rider. The hounds-about twenty couple-struck me as rather small, but seemed to be well matched, and in capital condition. The horses of the establishment showed work, and though they proved up to the mark, yet what can be expected on a subscription little exceeding £600 a year, wherewith to keep fortyfive couple of hounds, nine horses, and two Whips?

Whatever man can do, Tom Smith has done; and that he has given general satisfaction who could deny, on witnessing his last brilliant farewell field? That he has met with one or two cavillers, is no less true; for how difficult is it to please "all the world and his wife to boot!" and what saith the poet on the opinion of the multitude is most correct"He that depends

Upon your favours swims with fins of lead,

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind;

And call him noble that was now your hate

Him vile, that was your garland."

Too often in the hunting-field, do we find this precept applicable to a few, with whom one unfavourable season will efface the recollections of previous unrivalled sport. The veteran's proud spirit could ill brook the cavils even of those few, who may have had some imaginary cause of discontent; wherefore he resigned the onerous post he had been solicited to occupy-which he had so ably filled and I shall now endeavour briefly to describe the glorious finale-the last splendid run, afforded to