I do not think it necessary here to enter into any foreign matter, such as the nature and economy of the establishment with which the field may be taken with reference to the country hunted, or the number of days weekly to be devoted to its business. We will suppose our young Nimrod has completed all such arrangements in a convenient fashion, and proceed to the _res gestæ_ for which he has made preparation. In this hard-riding era, it is regarded as a dashing style of going to cover, by your aspiring tyro, to approach it as the crow would fly. If he _must_ go thither across country, let him, at all events, avoid passing through, or riding too near any of the covers likely to be drawn during the day. If they hold a good fox, it is sure notice for him to quit, for he is ever on the _qui vive_. The result is, should the hounds be thrown in, they come upon a scent some hours old--crawl upon it over probably the cream of the country, never come on terms with him; and a capital day’s sport is lost to a whole field by a selfish half-hour’s lark. Arrived at the place of meeting, he should not address himself to the master, if he hunt his own hounds; or, in the other case, to the huntsman, notwithstanding he may be on familiar terms with them, beyond the mere exchange of a passing civility. Even then, a man, bent upon showing a good day’s sport, has his mind sufficiently engaged on the business before him. He is consulting temporary causes, by which to be directed as to the particular cover to begin with, and how it is to be drawn. The point of wind, the nature of the day, the weather of the preceding week,--all must be weighed, and brought to assist his judgment. A fox well found is always the most likely to be well accounted for. But if conversation with the master or huntsman be inconvenient before hounds are thrown off, afterwards it becomes a positive impertinence. It is no excuse for doing so that they are not actually engaged at the moment. A huntsman, having drawn without a find, is probably waiting for some of his hounds; at the same time he is debating with himself what cover he shall next try, and how to get to it, as the wind may affect the best lying in it for his fox. He has also observed how his hounds have behaved, and has orders to give to a whip as to the conduct of some one prone to riot; or that a particular corner of the cover about being drawn shall be carefully watched. In short, success or failure are dependent on his management; and how can he deliberate if he is to stand a general catechism?