"Like master like man" is a very old saying, and, like many of those ancient saws, very true. Therefore, in such a sporting country as the Bullshire, with such a sporting Master at the head of affairs, it stands to reason that the field, or at all events the majority of them, should be equally imbued with the love of the chase. Now in every country the mainstay and backbone of the hunt is the Farmer, for without his consent and co-operation fox-hunting would become a thing of the past, and instead of a series of brilliant gallops and a successful season, we should read of a series of actions for trespass and verdicts for damages, carrying costs. Keen sportsmen and true friends to the hunt are the Farmers of Bullshire, so there is little fear of opposition on their part. Indeed, on one occasion they combined to make it very "warm" for a stranger who came among them, and who did not fall in with their views concerning the necessary amount of support to be given to the hounds. The erring member was a man who, having made some money in the chandler line in London, took it into his head that he was cut out for a Farmer, and accordingly took a farm in the centre of the hunt. From the moment he set his foot in the place he gave offence, for the first thing he did was to wire the whole of his fences, and then gave notice that anyone riding across his land would be summoned for trespass and "prosecuted according to law." "He was not a-going to 'ave them beastly dorgs and 'osses a-running over his land, not if he knowed it." A climax, however, was reached when the surly brute assaulted one of the members of the hunt with a pitchfork, and swore he would lay down poison for the hounds. A meeting was there and then called to discuss the question, and it was unanimously decided to give the individual "what for." Accordingly, some of the younger Farmers assembled one evening, and by the following morning there was not a trace of wire to be seen nor a gate-post standing in the holding of the ex-chandler. Strange to say, the local police, into whose hands the matter was immediately put, failed to discover the offenders, and the country-side was straightway ringing with the candleman's discomfiture. The next time he went to market not a beast could he sell, and it was the same with everything. He found a strong league against him, none would buy from him and none would sell to him; so at the end of a year he retired in disgust, much to the delight of the conspirators. No two better representatives of the Bullshire Farmers, old and young, could be found than Simms and his son. The father--hard-working, hard-riding, hard-headed, with fifty years of practical knowledge on his shoulders--is a firm believer in Church and State and the rotation of crops. With a horror of anything like steam, and a decided prejudice against the School Board, he stands out a true type of the warm-hearted old-fashioned yeoman.