"Hounds, please, gentlemen; hounds, please," says old Tom Wilding, as he threads his way through the field, who have, in their eagerness, ridden over the line. "Now, where the deuce should t' fox a gotten to, I wonder?" thinks he to himself; "Harbinger made it good across the lane, I swear, for I saw 'im, and there's naught to turn 'im that I can see." But there is; for an old woman, innocent of mischief, suddenly raises her much-be-bonneted head out of the turnips right in front, and with a "Dang her ugly mug," Tom makes a swinging cast for'ard. Minstrel, hitting off the scent under the gate out of the field, is promptly corroborated in his statement by Gaylad, and in a second things are going as jolly as a peal of bells. The old Huntsman stops just a moment before pulling his horse together at the timber, to give "t' ould wench" a bit of his mind. "Look here," says he, "you've frightened fox away with that danged ould top-knot o' your'n. I be a good mind to----" But the old lady drops a most humble curtsy, and looks so penitent, that his anger vanishes, a smile steals over his face, and with a "Coom up," he pops over the rails and gets to his hounds. A bit of a martinet is Tom, and right well does he know how to keep his whips in order. Ay, and for the matter of that, some of the fire-eaters of the field besides. Woe betide the unfortunate Harry who, keen as mustard, slips away, leaving two couple and a half behind. "All here?" says Tom. "A couple coming up, sir," replies Harry (he thinks it better to economise the truth as to numbers); "they are close behind." "Then what the devil business have you in front of them? Get back and bring 'em along at once. D'ye suppose my second whip's come out as a horniment?" (Tom, when excited, is a little shaky with his h's.) "If you don't know your business I can jolly soon get someone who does. There's lots of chaps to do the riding without you a-figuring about here. Get back at once, and let me catch you a-leaving hounds behind again." Yet in his heart he thinks none the worse of the lad for being keen to get along in front, and remembers how often he himself has been rated in bygone days for the same offence.