love the fallow field--that, the stubble; this, you will see them, almost without looking for them, big and brown on the bare stony upland lea--that, you must have a hawk's eye in your head to discern, discover, detect them, like birds in their nests, embowered below the bunweed or the bracken; they choose to spend this week in a wood impervious to wet or wind--that, in a marsh too plashy for the plover; now you may depend on finding madam at home in the sulks within the very heart of a bramble-bush or dwarf black-thorn thicket, while the squire cocks his fud at you from the top of a knowe open to blasts from all the airts;--in short, he who knows at all times where to find a hare, even if he knew not one single thing else but the way to his mouth, cannot be called an ignorant man--is probably a better-informed man in the long run than the friend on his right, discoursing about the Turks, the Greeks, the Portugals, and all that sort of thing, giving himself the lie on every arrival of his daily paper. We never yet knew an old courser (him of the Sporting Annals included), who was not a man both of abilities and virtues. But where were we?--at the Trysting-hill Farmhouse, jocularly called Hunger-them-Out. Line is formed, and with measured steps we march towards the hills--for we ourselves are the schoolboy, bold, bright, and blooming as the rose--fleet of foot almost as the very antelope--Oh! now, alas! dim and withered as a stalk from which winter has swept all the blossoms--slow as the sloth along the ground--spindle-shanked as a lean and slippered pantaloon! "O heaven! that from our bright and shining years Age would but take the things youth heeded not!" An old shepherd meets us on the long sloping rushy ascent to the hills--and putting his brown withered finger to his gnostic nose, intimates that she is in her old form behind the dyke--and the noble dumb animals, with pricked-up ears and brandished tail, are aware that her hour is come. Plash, plash, through the marsh, and then on the dry furze beyond, you see her large dark-brown eyes--Soho, soho, soho--Halloo, halloo, halloo--for a moment the seemingly horned creature appears to dally with the danger, and to linger ere she lays her lugs on her shoulder, and away, like thoughts pursuing thoughts--away fly hare and hounds towards the mountain.