ace, and six run to ground.'

'Oh, don't tell _me_,' retorts Frosty, with a shake of disgust; 'don't tell
me. I knows better--I knows better. They'd only killed a brace since they
began hunting up to yesterday. The rest were all cubs, poor things!--all
cubs, poor things! Mr. Puffington's hounds are not the sort of animals to
kill foxes: nasty, skirtin', flashy, jealous divils; always starin' about
for holloas and assistance. I'll be d----d if I'd give eighteenpence for
the 'ole lot on 'em.'

A loud guffaw from the Flat Hat men greeted this wholesale condemnation.
The Puffington men looked unutterable things, and there is no saying what
disagreeable comparisons might have been instituted (for the
Puffingtonians mustered strong) had not his lordship and Jack cast up at
the moment. Hats off and politeness was then the order of the day.

'Mornin',' said his lordship, with a snatch of his hat in return, as he
pulled up and stared into the cloud-enveloped crowd; 'Mornin', Fyle;
mornin', Fossick,' he continued, as he distinguished those worthies, as
much by their hats as anything else. 'Where are the horses?' he said to
Frostyface.

[Illustration: JACK FROSTY AND CHARLEY SLAPP]

'Just beyond there, my lord,' replied the huntsman, pointing with his whip
to where a cockaded servant was 'to-and-froing' a couple of hunters--a
brown and a chestnut.

'Let's be doing,' said his lordship, trotting up to them and throwing
himself off his hack like a sack. Having divested himself of his muddy
overalls, he mounted the brown, a splendid sixteen-hands horse in tip-top
condition, and again made for the field in all the pride of masterly
equestrianism. A momentary gleam of sunshine shot o'er the scene; a jerk of
the head acted as a signal to throw off, and away they all moved from the
meet.

Thorneybush Gorse was a large eight-acre cover, formed partly of gorse and
partly of stunted blackthorn, with here and there a sprinkling of Scotch
firs. His lordship paid two pounds a year for it, having vainly tried to
get it for thirty shillings, which was about the actual value of the land,
but the proprietor claimed a little compensation for the trampling of
horses about it; moreover, the Puffington men would have taken it at two
pounds. It was a sure find, and the hounds dashed into it with a scent.

The field ranged themselves at the accustomed corner, both hunts full of
their previous day's run. Frostyface's 'Yoicks, wind him!' 'Yoicks, p