And here is the obituary notice of a really kind and pleasant farmer, Mr. Gough of Datchet. A sporting farmer is a treasured article in any country, and when one dies the Hunt sustains a serious loss. This Mr. Gough had been particularly good to the E.C.H. “The E.C.H. has much reason to regret the loss of Mr. Gough, a tenant farmer, who by his sportsmanlike conduct conduced in no small measure to the prosperity of the Hunt. On his land a sure find might be anticipated, and bagmen were unknown commodities. By his example several of the surrounding farmers were induced to open their lands to the E.C.H., and, though a lawn meet was not often the fashion, Mr. Gough’s hospitable house was never drawn blank for beer and luncheon. The ‘Gough breakfasts’ in the Lent term afforded many a pleasant recollection for dreary after fours, and his tales, though generally ‘twice told,’ were rarely tedious.” H. J. L. B. Lewis was Master in 1864 with J. B. Wood, A. A. Wace, who is still alive, and R. V. Somers-Smith as his whips. Here is a letter from Mr. Wace which describes the sport with admirable vivacity: “The Master of the College Beagles in 1864 was Lewis. He rejoiced in five Christian names; three, really surnames, indicated Celtic origin, of which he was very proud. Though of a short sturdy frame his lungs were not so good as his heart, as an early death at Oxford showed; and being slow over plough he left much of the field work to his long-legged whips. Lewis had learned how to handle hounds in kennel and field in Wales, and he gave us a very happy season with his knowledge, generosity and good temper. We had, if I remember right, five or six couples; dwarf harriers, rather than the beagles of Sussex; though there was one true to the latter type which generally did as well at a bad check as Lewis did. They were kennelled at Ward’s Lodge on the Datchet Road. We hunted, I think, three days a week, and our country extended from Salt Hill and Cippenham to as far beyond Datchet as the calls of hall or lock-up allowed us to get. After we had got our little pack and our lungs into some training by following drags we took to hares, but without much success except for exercise. Agar’s Plough and Cippenham were always good draws; but we rarely killed, for Ditton Park, lying in the centre of our country, was too convenient a sanctuary. It had its advantages, however, for us as well as for the hares, as we learnt to bless it as an excuse for being late for hall or lock-up. We could so often honestly say that we had lost time in getting hounds out of the Park coverts; and that seemed to please the Master in College; for, as he often told us, its ducal owner was his wife’s cousin. Hounds, then often disappointed, required blooding with a bagged hare or rabbit, neither ever giving a decent run; and I disliked the job all the more because Sussex had shown me a better way of using beagles for rabbits; and I thought of the hours spent with my gun