Cares can be put aside when one comes upon one of Trollope's fox-hunting episodes. All is given up to the pleasure of the chase, and of its anticipation, and of its recollection. Indeed one of the markers of the successful huntsman is that his experience and his horsemanship allow him to be a witness to the end of the fox so that he can recount the details afterward. Character is revealed in the field. In this case, the Protestant clergyman Reverend Armstrong (whose only parishioner is Mrs. O'Kelly) is one of those who knows every road and which way the wind is blowing, and how unlikely it is that the fox would run against it. He shows himself to be a master huntsman. Like experienced golfers who "putt for dough" while the young men "drive for show," Mr. Armstrong spares his horse, takes short-cuts, and is always at the scene of the kill before the hard-riding gallants come galloping up a minute or two late. Barry Lynch, on the other hand, cuts his horse in front of the hounds as they approach a small stone wall, fatally injuring one of them. Frank O'Kelly is obliged to send him home in disgrace. (The bloody end to the fox hunt is no longer to be seen within the restriction of English laws. The sport was banned in England in 2004. Hunting enthusiasts, however, claim that the number of foxes killed each year has actually increased since the ban.) Lessons in the conduct of human affairs are to be found in Trollope's work, another feature that _The Kellys and the O'Kellys_ shares with some of his later and better-known works. For instance, doctors, lawyers, and others who are paid to give advice learn sooner or later that one can only advise; one cannot coerce. Professionals will sometimes tell the recipient that they have given their best advice; and it is up to them to decide whether to take it. We find the young lawyer Mr. Daly resorting to this ploy as he finds that Barry Lynch is disappointed not to have prospects for a more lucrative settlement in a deal with Martin Kelly: "I've now given you my best advice; if your mind's not yet made up, perhaps you'll have the goodness to let me hear from you when it is?" The story is a symmetrical one in which each of the two young heroes finds his reward, virtue emerges triumphant, and the wicked are vanquished. It's a warm-hearted romp in which young Anthony Trollope showed that he had the tools to keep readers entertained for years. My guess is that an Irishman can enjoy it as much as an Englishman. A TALE OF NO CITY LA VENDÉE