rested in fox hunting, our Farmer proceeded, with his
usual painstaking care, to build up a pack of hounds. The year 1768 was
probably the period of his greatest interest in the subject and his
diary is full of accounts of the animals. Hounds were now, in fact, his
hobby, succeeding in interest his horses. He did his best to breed
according to scientific principles, but several entries show that the
dogs themselves were inclined blissfully to ignore the laws of eugenics
as applied to hounds.

Among his dogs in this period were "Mopsey," "Taster," "Tipler," "Cloe,"
"Lady," "Forester" and "Captain." August 6, 1768, we learn that "Lady"
has four puppies, which are to be called "Vulcan," "Searcher," "Rover,"
and "Sweetlips."

Like all dog owners he had other troubles with his pets. Once we find
him anointing all the hounds that had the mange "with Hogs Lard &
Brimstone." Again his pack is menaced by a suspected mad dog, which
he shoots.

The Revolution broke rudely in upon the Farmer's sports, but upon his
return to Mount Vernon he soon took up the old life. Knowing his bent,
Lafayette sent him a pack of French hounds, two dogs and three bitches,
and Washington took much interest in them. According to George
Washington Custis they were enormous brutes, better built for grappling
stags or boars than chasing foxes, and so fierce that a huntsman had to
preside at their meals. Their kennel stood a hundred yards south of the
old family vault, and Washington visited them every morning and evening.
According to Custis, it was the Farmer's desire to have them so evenly
matched and trained that if one leading dog should lose the scent,
another would be at hand to recover it and thus in full cry you might
cover the pack with a blanket.

The biggest of the French hounds, "Vulcan," was so vast that he was
often ridden by Master Custis and he seems to have been a rather
privileged character. Once when company was expected to dinner Mrs.
Washington ordered that a lordly ham should be cooked and served. At
dinner she noticed that the ham was not in its place and inquiry
developed that "Vulcan" had raided the kitchen and made off with the
meat. Thereupon, of course, the mistress scolded and equally, of course,
the master smiled and gleefully told the news to the guests.

Billy Lee, the colored valet who had followed the General through the
Revolution, usually acted as huntsman and, mounted on "Chinkling" or
some other good steed, wit