The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1909-01-02
Dan. the Huntsman. F"


come,
Everyone will be there and all trouble
and care,
Will be left far behind in the run"
Everyone was there certainly, from
the village and from the country for
miles around, the lord and the lady, the
farmer and the laborer, the well-to-do
on horseback and the remainder on
Shanks' mare ION FOOT. Far away down
the road the sweet notes of the bugle
horn ring out, followed by the sharp
crack Of a whip and a still sharper
voice: Forward Surefoot," "Drat you,
Saxon Into line there, Rolling
Stone" where's your manners. Man
drake?" "Tally-ho, and tally-ho, my
beauties all"
Give me a seat on a saddle neat,
And the joyous notes of the horn,
Then tally-ho and away we go
AS blithe- as the April morn.
And the squire's ahead with Captain
Ned,
Sheriff Dick. jolly farmer Joe.
The run is fast, old Nick take the last,
Tally-ho, my beauties, tally-hO.
The last words of the song ring sharp
and clear through the village and the
shout arises, 1.-The hounds are coming"
and round the bend Of the road a horse
man in scarlet coat is seen, followed by
a pack of some thirty staghounds with
another horseman in the rear-the
whip. The leading horseman APP
proaches and joins the waiting throng,
saluting all present by a raising of his
hunting cap, and the following run of
comment:
.Ah. Captain Jones, I'm glad to see
you out again after the bad fall you
got last day" Good day, your lady
ship, you will lead us a merry spin to-
day. ''Ha! sheriff. is that you? I'm
pleased to see you, but not that kicking
brute you're riding" "Egad, Parson
Jones, if you are as good a preacher as
rider, and they tell me you are, you'd
convert any pagan" Ah! Father
Tom. out TO see your people enjoy
themselves" and the hunting cap is
again DOTTED and the friendly hand goes
out to grasp the good priests. why
are you not mounted, Father Tom? All!
/ forgot the bishop won't allow it. Well,
then We'll petition the bishop for you;
he never included you when he made
that law" Rooney, I'll enlarge the
stag on your farm, like a good fellow,
take the deer cart along, and give him
his freedom. We will give you ten min
utes' grace, Rooney, no more.
Dan. the huntsm2n, is a man of about
so. He wears his years well, for you
would imagine to look at him he was
only 80. The face is clean-shaven, with
the ruddy glow of health shining all
over it, and the eyes, small and sharp,
are full of the milk of human kindness
and gaiety. He sits in the saddle with
all the ease and grace of the perfect
horseman, and from the hunting cap to
the bright spurs every article of attire
is spick and span. The horse is in
keeping with the master, one of those
good hunters of the old Irish breed who
could stay 1.-The length of a day as the
people put 1t, "and jump a house" l
have met many noble, honest men in
my time. but l can safely say. Dan. the
huntsman, was king of all in honesty
Of purpose and nobility of character A
born huntsman, a born gentleman, he
was the beloved of all classes, especial
ly among the farmers. During the
troublesome land league times, when
the farmers stopped the hunting in a
great many parts of Ireland on account
of the landlord element that took part
in it, Dams pack never for one day suf-
fered interference. and the joyous
sound of his horn never was stilled on
the hills To see him manage his dogs
in the hunting field and in the kennels
was a treat. They were perfect ma
chimes in discipline. and you could
scarcely credit the perfect training, the
obedience those dogs displayed, unless
you saw it.
Come out to the yard. sir" he would
say to the visitor, IAN see my dogs fed.
Their manners are perfect. sir. just
perfect" and smile of pleasure lit
up his honest face.
When viSitOr would reach the
yard. Dan would take down whip and,
walking to the kennel door, would
throw it open. and, standing outside the
doorway, would call the dogs out by
name. and each dog in answer to his
name would leap from his clean bed Of
straw and come out with a joyous bay
ing into the yard while Dan raincd the
following comments:
That's Huntsman. sir. a fine dog
but rather slow" Forwards, sir, the
leader of the pack, and when the scents
at fault he picks it up; got him from
Lord H-xh Clarinda, yes, a beautiful
hound, sharp as a needle but rather
fast They all know me. sir, and /
think love me, eh, my beauties?" and
the hunting cap is waved around his
head and whip cracks with ''Tally-ho,
my beauties, taily-ho." And then arises
a joyous baying that sounds into every
nook and Granny of the village.
John shouts Dan to the yard man.
serve dinner" Two steaming troUghs
of horsehesh are dragged by John from
an adjoining house and placed in the
very center of the pack. Though the
dogs are ravenous hungry, not one
touches the trough.
Into line, my beauties. into line
The dogs, obedient to the voice of Dan,
range themselves on either side Of the
trough with their eyes fixed on him.
They never touch their dinner, sir,
until I say grace Now we VIII wait
five minutes until you see the perfect
manners of my dogs. and there Dan
stands for the allotted tine, cap and
whip in hand. and his admiring eyes
fixed on the pack.
Attention my beauties, attention!"
and the whip is raised. At these words
the dogs wag their tails and bay:
For what we are to receive we give
thanks" and Dan has no sooner ut
tered the above words than ivory nose
is buried in the steaming troughs OF
meat
A loud, merry laugh comes from Dan
as he sees the look of wonder on his
visitors face, and then follows the ex-
PLANTATION:
"'Tis the whip that does it. You sec.
sir they watch the whip, and us long
as keep it on my shoulder or raised,