Some Hunting Stories.

Horowhenua Chronicle, 13 June 1910, Page 4

Some Hunting Stories.

The following hunting stories are taken from a budget, of hunting jests and anecdotes contributed! by niasteis of foxhounds and leading hunting men to the Strand Magazine.

"611 one occasion when I was a hoy," writes the master of the Grafton Foxhounds, "I was out with the Herefordshire pack. Old Bdb Ward, who was limiting that clay, had a very low opinion of Cockney s'wtsmen, and on (this occasion it was strongly confirmed. He turned and reproved one of them for 'riding over turnips. " 'Turnips?' cried the individual, in an aggrieved tone, 'how should I know they were turnips unless there was a boiled lego' mutton in the middle of 'em?'"

A hunting man of city extraction with pretensions to high art, once employed a Royal 'Vcademician to paint bis favourite huniter. There after he gave his friends no peace. Every tim ehe saw one of .them he would begin, "Oh, did I tell you T've ha <lm yhorse painted?" At last, the rumour ran, that a famous duke was coming over to take part in the hunt, and old Jorroeks was keen on showing off his art knowledge 'before his Grace. The first chance he had whon they rode together he therefore, promptly opened fire.

"By the way, your Grace, I've 'ad my 'orse 'painetd."

The duke stuck his glass in his eye and started at the animal supporting Jnrrioks.

"No? Not reilly? Didn't notice it. Thought the colour odd, .but capital idea to keep out the rain."

"The best story I even 1 heard was that of a discharged whipper-in who maliciously seized the old M.F.H.'s favourite cat, dressed Mm up in a fox's skin, and let the desperate animal loose in a field just in front of Ithe hounds. The M.F.H. and the others caught sight of the scudding fox, and at once sent up a yell. All thought they were in at the death, but for some strange reason the hounds refused to kill. In vain 'the huntsmen cs.'. : it?d to the hounds, who were off again—the pseudo-fox stood at bay, and finally, to the consternation of the pairty, sliot up ji neighbouring tree. The squire rubbed his eyes.

"Where the dickens is that fox gone?"

"Up a tree, sir!" "Up a tree! Why, yoii fools, we've struck a giant squirrel. It's a squirrel, I tell yo>u, and weWo been done."

"No, sir," said a huntsman; "it's a fox right enough. I can see his tail."

"Taj! be hanged!" cried tflm squire, putting his ear close to the tree; it's his other end's troubling me. I've just heard thalb fox mew, and I'm going home!" "And although they wanted; to cut the tree down, the old M.F.H. had had enough, and turned hk hiorso homewards, and the discharged whip-per-in had a most ample revenge."