fox-hunters of the old school-even if he did get too slow for modern times-in as high estimation as the oracle at Delphi did amongst the Athenians. So convinced was he of the necessity of having the meal well-boiled, that almost the first question he asked a new whipper-in or kennel-man, who might offer himself as a candidate for his service, was whether he knew how to "thick a copper;" and, according to the knowledge evinced in the culinary art of the boiling-house, his estimation of the person rose or fell. The following is the proper way to make a pudding, or "thick-up," as it is sometimes expressed in kennel language. First, take care that your water is thoroughly boiling; then keep strewing in the oatmeal with one hand, holding the vessel containing the meal in the other arm, stopping ever and anon to stir it up well with a wooden stirrer, having also a strong stick, resembling a fork handle, with an iron temper at one end, to move it perpetually from the bottom, to prevent its burning. The better the oatmeal, the less it will take; but you will know when you have used sufficient by its becoming thick and swelling to its proper consistency. Let it boil for two hours, and then put out the fire, and ladle it out into the cooler, where, if it is properly made, and the meal old and good, in the course of a few hours it will bear the weight of a man to jump on it. The old plan of mixing the feed used to be to boil up the meal with the broth and flesh all together; but there are many objections to it. In the first place, the meal does not go so far, nor does it stay by the hounds so long as when the meal is made into a pudding by itself; and in the next place, what may be left will ferment and become totally unfit for use in a few hours. It may here be remarked that the best made pudding will occasionally ferment from the following causes-thunder; change in the weather; if any broth has by chance got into the copper or buckets which have been used in moving it, and if the cooler has not been well washed out with a brush since it may have been last emptied. Fermented food will invariably cause a looseness in hounds, consequently it should be avoided. The feeding hounds, to make the most of their powers and constitutions, is another art, which, amongst the ordinary run of fox-hunters, is not much considered, whereas half the secret in making a pack run together consists in a thorough knowledge of that branch of the science. I have heard many men, who were good judges too in these matters, declare that no man can hunt a pack of hounds properly without feeding them; and, moreover, that no man can feed a pack to un together without hunting them, so that he may be thoroughly acquainted with their constitutions, and the effect that high or low feeding may have upon their pace and stoutness. No doubt there is a great deal of truth in this, as I know, by my own experience, that if a huntsman knows anything of feeding, he can generally perform that duty to better effect than a man who stays at home, and is consequently in ignorance of the way in which the work is performed in the field; besides, nothing makes hounds fonder of their huntsman, or handier in casting or lifting them, than the constantly being with them, ministering to their wanis, and caressing them, and by never, on any account, striking or scolding them. No gentleman, who is his own huntsman, should ever think of entering

his kennel without first putting on a large frock, made of jean or brown holland, to protect his clothes, that he may allow his pack to come round him without the fear of their being ill-naturedly beaten or repulsed. Dogs are animals not to be trifled with; and a blow given to a faultless hound, for no other crime than soiling the coat of a dandy, may create a shyness and antipathy in the animal which can never again be eradicated. There are many first-rate amateur performers as huntsmen, who do not attend to the feeding department themselves; and, to the eye of an indifferent observer, their hounds may perform their work without the slightest cause for reproach; yet I have no doubt, if these gentlemen would undertake the fatigue and trouble of doing it themselves, their performances in the chase would be much more to their satisfaction, and many a hound which is put away as not being able to go the pace, or for tiring, would be by such means redeemed. The late Duke of Cleveland, even to the last season of his keeping hounds, was so devoted to them as to stay after hunting during the whole operation of feeding, even when his clothes were soaked with rain. And to bad health and rheumatism arising from this practice might be attributed his abandonment of the chase. Mr. Osbaldeston, although an indefatigable field huntsman, seldom or never troubled himself about the feeding: after his kennel huntsman left him in Northamptonshire, that operation was generally performed by William Gardner, his boiler; and I must do him the justice to say that I never saw any pack of hounds in the whole course of my experience as a fox-hunter which could go so killing a pace, both in cover and in the open, run so well together, and carry so fine a head, or last out such long and tiring days, as those of Mr. Osbaldeston: they would not only go like a flock of pigeons with a burning scent, but could "cold hunt" a fox with as much patience as any pack of hounds in England. They were never whipped off till it was quite dark, even if twenty miles from home, if there was the least chance of killing their fox; and, as the "Squire" hunted six days a week, and frequently had two packs out in a day, it was impossible for his head man, Jack Stevens, to feed; consequently the hounds were generally, if not always, fed during the hunting season by Will Gardner, who was considered by far the best kennel-man and most judicious feeder of his day; he had no doubt a quick and discerning understanding, and a most retentive memory, or he never could have fed them with the exactness which he did-capabilities of a mind worthy of a higher walk in life.

"The Squire's" hounds have always been considered amongst the stoutest in the world, and no doubt the goodness of their nature must have been one great cause of their strikingly lasting qualities; yet I firmly believe, had they been fed by an ignorant or inattentive person, or one of the common stamp of feeders, that they never could have gone through the labour which they did in so workmanlike and superior a manner. The great art of feeding consists in administering that quantity of food which will produce the greatest powers of exertion, without impairing the constitution by repletion; over-feeding or giving too much at once is equally as injurious as giving too little; food introduced into the stomach in too great a quantity does not di

gest, and totally defeats the object for which it was given, which may be seen in any dogs that have gorged too much, always purging. Hounds at all seasons of the year, in my humble opinion, ought to be rather high in condition, particularly in wet weather; and, as long as two ribs are visible, the muscles on their thighs and backs cannot be too exuberant. The greatest mistake in most huntsmen is, that they do not begin sufficiently early in the summer to give strong exercise: they content themselves with crawling out at six or seven o'clock, and, because it is hot, and the hounds seem distressed (which no doubt they are), bring them in at nine; whereas they ought never to be in their kennel after five o'clock, unless the morning is wet, and ought to be kept out for at least four hours. As the summer wears away, and the time approaches towards cub-hunting, their exercise must, of course, be increased; and at that period they ought to have, during two days in the week, at least about nine hours' strong exercise.

(To be continued.)

MARE AND FOAL.

LEVITY, THE PROPERTY OF J. C. COCKERILL, ESQ., AND HER FOAL, QUEEN ELIZABETH, NOW THE PROPERTY OF LORD DORCHESTER.

ENGRAVED BY E. HACKER, FROM A PAINTING BY J. F. HERRING, SEN.

The very gentle reader-" my honourable friend, if he will allow me to call him such"-has, we'll engage, a turn for the turf; without a doubt he is what we might term a thorough racing—

"No, he's not! and he'll just thank you not to engage or surmise anything of the sort."

Well! to be sure! But, my dear sir, you needn't pull one up so confounded short; we once saw a nice free-going hack's jaw broken by an ill-natured trick of this kind, a mishap you have all but effected on the present occasion. Come, then, if you fancy our addressing you as an honourable friend smacks too much of a feeling of familiarity or a feeling for bill acceptances, "my worthy and approved good master" is not (it's all the same to us) a racing-man. He don't patronize our immortal magazine for the sake of those long learned yarns in which quadruped heroes-Charles XIIths, Emilius's, and Hannibals are descanted on with rather more consideration, and come in for a greater allowance of Kudos or soft soap, than the biped originals. He don't study the monthly sheet or so of Calendar -for the very simple reason that he scarce could understand a word of it. No, he likes something catching and agreeable; the interesting history, for instance, which fully details the breaking of a sucking setter, or the bullying of a pointer pup; the romantic receipt for making a may-fly or mixing a mud-bait; or the highly-coloured