The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1902-12-07

My crimes had evidently been forgot
ten in the supremacy of the moment.
While I was futilely asserting that had
the fox gone up the ladder he could not
possibly have opened the door and shut
it after him, even if the door led any
where, which to the best of my belief
it did not, the door in question opened
and to my amazement the sweep appeared
at it. He gesticulated violently, and over
the tumult was heard to asseverate that
there was nothing above. there, only a
way into the fue, and any one would be
destroyed with the SCOT.
"Ah, go to blazes with your SCOTT"
interrupted FURRY, already half way up
the ladder.
l followed him, the other men pressing
up behind me. That Trumpeter had
made no mistake was instantly brought
home to our noses by the reek Of fox
that met US at the door. Instead of a
chimney we found ourselves in a dilapi-
dated bedroom, full of people. Tim Con-
nor was there the sweep was there, and
squalid elderly man and woman on
whom 1 had never set eyes before. In
one corner Of the room was a pile of
broken packing cases, and beside these
on the floor lay bag in which something
kicked.
FURRY, looking more uncomfortable
and nonplussed than l could have believed
possible, listened in silence to the cease
less harangue of the elderly woman.
The hounds were yelling like lost spirits
in the loft below, but her voice pierced
the uproar like bagpipe. 1t was an
unspeakably vulgar voice, yet it was not
/ "a Of a mr. y-yU there
were frowzy remnants of responsibility
about her general aspect.
"And is it you, FURRY Knox, that's
calling me a disgracel Disgrace. indeed,
am l? Me that was your poor mothers
own urcle's daughter, and as good
Mccarthy as ever stood in Shreelane!
/ Never. as long as FURRY Knox lives to
/ blow a horn will he hear the last of the
/ day that he ran his mothers first cousin
/ to ground in the attic Never, while
Mrs Cadogan can hold a basting spoon,
will she cease to recount how. on the
/ same occasion, she plucked and roasted
/ ten couple of woodcock in one torrid
hour to provide luncheon for the hunt.
In the glory of this achievement her
confederacy with the stoYaways in the
attic is wholly slurred over, in much the
same manner as the startling outburst
of summons for trespass, brought by Tim
Conner during the remainder of the
shooting season, obscured the unfortunate
episode of the bagged fox. 1t was, of
course, zeal for my shooting that in
duced him to assist Mr. Knoxs disrepu-
table relations in the deportation of my
foxes; and L have allowed it to remain
| at that.
In fact, the only things not allowed to
remain were Mr.. and Mrs. Mccarthy
/ Cannon. They, as my landlord informed
me. in the midst of vast apologies, had
| been permitted to squat at Shreelane
until my tenancy began, and having then
/ ostentatiously and abusively left the
house, they had, with the connivance of
the Cadogans, secretly returned to roost
| in the corner attic, to sell foxes under
the aegis of my name. and to make in
roads on my belongings. They retained
connection with the outer world by
means of the ladder and the loft. and
with the house in general and MY whisky
in particular, by a door into the other
attic--a door concealed by the wardrobe
in which reposed Great Uncle McCarthy's
tall hat.