rdly got over the first paroxysms of grief, and gathered
up Jack's cap, and the fragments of his spectacles, ere Jawleyford, who
had noticed his abrupt departure from the stand and scurry across the
country, arrived at the spot. His lordship was still in the full agony of
woe; still grasping and bedewing Jack's cold hand with his tears.

'Oh, my dear Jack! Oh, my dear Jawleyford! Oh, my dear Jack! 'sobbed he, as
he mopped the fast-chasing tears from his grizzly cheeks with a red cotton
kerchief. 'Oh, my dear Jack! Oh, my dear Jawleyford! Oh, my dear Jack!
'repeated he, as a fresh flood spread o'er the rugged surface. 'Oh, what a
tr-reasure, what a tr--tr--trump he was. Shall never get such another.
Nobody could s--s--lang a fi--fi--field as he could; no hu--hu--humbug
'bout him--never was su--su--such a fine natural bl--bl--blackguard'; and
then his feelings wholly choked his utterance as he recollected how easily
Jack was satisfied; how he could dine off tripe and cow-heel, mop up fat
porridge for breakfast, and never grumbled at being put on a bad horse.

The news of a man being killed soon reached the hill, and drew the
attention of the mob from our hero and heroine, causing such a spread of
population over the farm as must have been highly gratifying to
Scourgefield, who stood watching the crashing of the fences and the
demolition of the gates, thinking how he was paying his landlord off.

Seeing the rude, unmannerly character of the mob, Jawleyford got his
lordship by the arm, and led him away towards the hill, his lordship
reeling, rather than walking, and indulging in all sorts of wild,
incoherent cries and lamentations.

'Sing out. Jack! sing out!' he would exclaim, as if in the agony of having
his hounds ridden over; then, checking himself, he would shake his head and
say, 'Ah, poor Jack, poor Jack! shall never look upon his like again--shall
never get such a man to read the riot act, and keep all square.' And then a
fresh gush of tears suffused his grizzly face.

The minor casualties of those few butchering spasmodic moments may be
briefly dismissed, though they were more numerous than most sportsmen see
out hunting in a lifetime.

One horse broke his back, another was drowned, Multum-in-Parvo was cut all
to pieces, his rider had two ribs and a thumb broken, while Farmer
Slyfield's stackyard was fired by some of the itinerant tribe, and all its
uninsured contents destroyed--so that his landlord was not the