The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1839-12-24 00:00:00

A DAY WITH THE SURREY HOUNDS

Our ball had failed so completely, that Jemnay, who was
bent still upon fashion, caught eagerly at Tagrag's suggeStion,
and went down to Tiriggeridgeville. If we had a difficulty to
find friends ig town, here there was none ; for the whole
country came about us, ate our dinners and suppers, danced
at our balls—ay, and spoke to us too. We were great people,
in fact ; I a regular country gentleman ; and, as such, Jetrany
insisted that I should be a sportsman, and join the county
hunt. " But," says I, "my love, I can't ride." " Pooh!
Mr. C." said she, " you are always making difficulties; you
thought you could'nt dance a quadrille ; you thought you
could'nt dine at seven o'clock ; you thought you could'nt
lie in bed after six ; and haven't you done every one of these
•things ? You must, and you .shall'ride !" And when my
Jemmy said " must and shall,'.' I knew very well there was
nothing for it ; so I sent down fifty guineas to the hunt, and,
out of compliment to me, the very next week I received no-
tice that the meet of the hounds would take place at Squash-
tail Common, just outside of my lodge-gates.
I didn't know what a meet was ; and rue and Mrs. C.
agreed that it was most probable the dogs were to be fed
there; however, Tagrag explained this matter to us, and
very kindly promised to sell me a horse, a delightful animal
of his own ; which, being desperately pressed for money he
would let me have for a hundred guineas, he himself having
given a hundred and fifty for it.
Well, the Thursday came ; the hounds met at Squashtail
Common ; Mrs. C. turned out in her barouche to see us
throw off; and, and being helped up on my chesnut horse,
Trumpeter, by Tagrag and my head groom, I came presently
round to join them.
Tag mounted his own horse ; and, as we walked down the
avenue, " I thought," he said, " you told me you knew how
to ride ; and that you had ridden once filly miles on a
stretch !"
" And so I did," says I, "to Cambridge, and on the
box, too."
" On the box 1" says he ; " but did you ever zoomit a
horse before ?"

Never," says I, " but I find it mighty easy."
- " Atre}litie Pyles yon'reemightv bold for a barber ; mud.
I like you, Coxe, for your spirit ;" and so we come out of
the gate.
As for describing the hunt, I own fairly, I can't. I've
been at a hunt, but what a hunt is—why the horses will go
among the dogs and ride them down—why the men cry out,
" yooooic"—why the dogs go snuffing about in threes and
fours, and the. huntsman says, " Gocd Towler—goOd
Betsey ;" and we all of us, after him, say, " Good Towler—
good Betsey" in course : then, after hearing a yelp here,
and a howl there, tow, row, yow, yew, yow! bursts out, all
of a sudden from three or four of them, and the chap in the
velvet cap' screuelies out (with a number of oaths I sha'nt
repeat here,) "..Hark, to Ringwood !" and then, " There he
goes !" says some one ; and, all of a sudden, helter skelter,
skurry hurry, slap bang, whooping, screeching. and hurraing,
blue coats and red coats, bays and greys, horses, dogs,
donkeys, butchers, barok nights, dustmen, and blaguard boys,
go tearing, altogether, over the common, after two or three
of the pack that howl loudest. :Why all this is, I can't say,
but it all took place the second Thursday of last March, in
My presence.
. Up to this, I'd kept my seat as well as the best, for we'd
only been trotting gently about the field until the dogs found ;
and I managed to stick on very well ; but directly the tow-
rowing began, off went Trumpeter like a thunderbolt, and I
found myself playing among the dogs like the donkey among
the chickens. " Back, Mr. Coxe " holloas the huntsman ;
and so I pulled very hard, and cried out Wo ! but he wouldn't ;
and on I went went galloping for the dear life. How I kept
on is a wonder ; but I squeezed my knees in very tight, and
shoved my feet very hard iato the stirrups, and kept stiff
bold of the scruff of Trumpeter's neck, and looked betwixt
his ears as well as ever I could, and trusted to lack, for I was
in a mortal fright, sure enough, as many a better man would
be in' such a case, let alone a poor hair-dresser.
As for the hounds, after my first riding in among them,
tell you honestly, I never saw so much as the tip of one of
their tails; nothing in this world did I see except Trum-
peter's dun-coloured mane, and that I grippled firm, riding
by the blessing of luck, safe through the walking, the trotting,
and the galloping, and never so much as got a tumble.
There was a chap at Croydon, very well known as the
" Spicy Dustman," who, when he could get no horse to ride
to the hounds, turned regularly out on his donkey ; and ou
this occasion made one of us. He generally managed to keep
up with the dogs, by trotting quietly through the cress-roads,
and knowing the country well. Well, after a good guess
where the hounds would find, and the line that sly Reynolds
(as they call the fox) would take, the Spicy Dustman turned
his animal down the lane, from Squashtail to Cutshins Com-
mon, across which, sure enough, came the whole hunt.
There's a small hedge and a remarkable tine ditch here ; some