The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1902-12-21
ACROSS COUNTRY WITH HORSE AND HOUND.
81 w

bounced from his hiding place, not far
above US in the piney bluff.
As we listened we could hear every
ina gnable instrument There were flutes
ana fddles and tamborines and harps OF
thousand strings. Our hearts sleaped
with joy IS through the piney fields and
over gullies and fences we. ware borne by
our fiery steeds. There was f1uttering
of hearts and quivering of leaves as the
music. filled the air like incense of wild
flowers, the echoes caught the strain and
passed it around from cliff to cliff. until
the rising sun danced in the tree tops
and swung corners with the shadows
below
AT this point, by a cunning dodge. Rey-.
nilrd succeeded in avoiding the hounds
and for the time apparently gave us the
slip.
THE DEATH.
However, our experienced hounds de-
tccted his trick and were soon at his
tells for the second time. By this time
the old fellow had led US many miles,
and our foaming horses had begun to
show the effects Of the rida Owing to
a swollen stream the pack had by this
time gottsn some distance ahead of us
We listened. and were delighted to near
in the distance that Reynard had
changed his course and was coming
straight towards us. We could hear the
music rise and fall ond fall and rise
from hill! to hollow and from hollow to
hill. like the ohiming Of distant bells.
Louder and louder 1t rose, nearer and.
nearer it came, till soon. half mile
away, Rsynard was seen crossing a Heid.
closely pursued by the eager pack. Old
Leader" true to his name, cleared the
opening fifty yards In advance of his
competitors. This was a. moment OF in
tense interest to all, and they galloped
close at the heels of the pack. anxious to
see the last of the chase, which was soon
ended by the capture Of Old Reynard.
Hark! Hank! Now home and dream till
morn,
OF the old sweet sound of the hunters
horn.
The horn. The horn!
Oh; the sound of all sounds is the hun
ter's horn. "
After which we returned home ready to
do justice to a Christmas dinner.
Brethren. it is needless for one to say
the life Of a sportsman is glorious. He is
not forever mourning and grooming over
a skeleton in his closet; he is shouting
after wild game in the forest He is not
a. somnambulist Of roast lamb and rich
croquett and frozen egg~nosg, walking and
screaming at midnight in the tenth story
of some fashionable hotel with the lace
curtains are parted and window up;
but he Is the wide-awake and yelling
follower. of the animals that coruch
and spring in the solitudes OF the con-
tinuous woods.
SWEET REST.
Poets may sing of banquets IN gilded
halls, where mingled sweets of culinary
art heaped upon the table, fairies like
speckled trout in the crimson depths OF
wine, and painted devils dance in amber
floods of corn and rye: but give me
a fox hunters lungs and a, fox hunters
appetite; his life filled with pleasures as
he gallops his proud steed down by the
river within the deep tagged wild woods,
where the hounds make sweet music all
the day.
Let the red nosed revelers sip their
wine and chuckle over the triumph Of
their trusts and combines, but give me
4 drink OF sparkling water from the
cold mountain stream and free life and
fresh air and a canter after the hounds
Let historians tell with glory Of heroes
bringing home their spoil from conquer
ed lands, but give me a, triumphal ride
to my own happy home. with fox to
NV saddle and my tired hounds straS
Cling behind.
The hero will roll and tumble all n'e''t
with horrible dreams OF blood and death,
but will sleep like a bapy. and Cream ci
the pleasures Of the ctaseNaN night lon".
Finally, brethren, these outdoor sports
are good for both hoo =..s...
give us muscle and mental vtgor;. they
b, tsaden our chests and our views Of life;
they engthen our days and hgnten our
troubles.