But what shall I say of Grenfell’s other innovation, the introduction of George Champion? He is such a well-known figure to all who have beagled during the last twenty years that it seems superfluous to give a description of him. And yet, for the sake of those who have never had the pleasure of knowing him, I cannot resist making the attempt. He stands about middle height and his hair is white, but this is almost the only sign of increasing age. His expression is indescribable; he has a kind of mild good-humoured sarcastic look which seldom leaves him, and a pair of eyes that seem to notice everything. Although he wears no distinctive costume his hounds will sight him three or four hundred yards away, even though he is standing against a tree or a railway arch, and when they catch sight of him nothing will stop them from galloping to meet him, unless they are actually hunting. At the kennels he is always glad to see you, though he may hide his pleasure under a somewhat gruff voice. He will never open a conversation on anything except racing or the weather, but he will answer any question you put to him, and is always willing to help the seeker after knowledge in anything concerning hounds; and, like all old men who have knocked about among hounds all their lives, he can spin a yarn with the best. For who that hears the name of Champion does not immediately think of the great huntsman of the Zetland? George Champion is his son, and hails from Yorkshire. He was himself for some years a whipper-in to the Zetland and to Lord Tredegar’s Foxhounds until he met with an accident rendering fox hunting for him an impossibility. He can well remember his father hunting hounds in Cambridgeshire, as well as in the Zetland country, and he has inherited his knowledge and love of hounds and hunting. All his brothers possess the same family instinct. A brother was for some time before his death a few years ago huntsman of the Cheshire. Another brother, Fred, is now kennelman to a pack of draghounds in Holland. A third, Bob, is first whipper in to the North Shropshire. It was a great piece of luck that Francis Grenfell should have been able to secure such a man as George Champion. [Illustration: 1.40 P.M.] G. K. Dunning, Master in 1912, gives him high praise, but every bit of it is deserved. “You asked me in your letter about G. Champion. His position as kennel huntsman to the E.C.H. was, I think, rather a unique one, as in most cases the Master’s knowledge of kennel management was negligible,[6] and a great deal of responsibility thus fell on Champion’s shoulders.