CHAPTER VIII. “We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, Of hounds and echo in conjunction." "JOHN PRETTYMAN had been in Sir Godfrey's service in the capacity of huntsman for thirtytwo years, and during that time neither master nor servant were heard to make a complaint of the conduct of each other in their relative positions. John was a long-bodied, bandy-legged individual, without any remarkable personal distinction, save a more than ordinary expression of gravity in a set of very round, rubicund features, and an immoderate share of vanity in possessing a long, thick pigtail, which occupied the greater portion of its proprietor's leisure hours in maintaining it in perfection of order and condition. This now obsolete ornament to the human form was, with John, the focus of all the diffused rays of vanity darting from the sun of conceit centred in his bosom. Never, certainly, did a pigtail have more attention bestowed upon it in shape of combing, brushing, tying, powdering, greasing, and perfuming, than the luxuriant thatch of John Prettyman's cerebellum, and its immediate vicinity. "As has been before stated, John was a grave specimen of the genus homo. He detested to laugh with all his heart, on account of the risible muscles in motion destroying that dignity which he so highly prized as an attribute of his station. For it should be observed, that as huntsman to Sir Godfrey Flamstead, John Prettyman deemed his position in society as something above the ordinary quality; and when, in the zenith of his master's prosperity, he had seventy-five couples of hounds in the kennel, and ten horses in the stable for his exclusive use, it would have taken the breath away of many a modest individual to have seen him arrive in all the pomp and circumstance of state by the cover side. "I am speaking of the days of old;' and therefore, in stating that John's hour for throwing the hounds into the brake was just as Reynard had licked his lips from his dainty nocturnal meal, need occasion no astonishment. Then it was, when the stars were just fading before the early beams of morning, that John, dressed in his showy livery, with his pigtail unctuous with clammy grease, and floured as white as a snow-drift, with all the importance of a commander-in-chief about to fight and show his tactics with the enemy, cheered his gallant pack and woke the day with his ringing halloo. Then it was, that, knowing the eyes of Sir Godfrey and the gentlemen of the hunt were upon him, he rose in his stirrups, and, as the first whimper gave intelligence of the "varmint" being afoot, he blew the great bugle slung across his shoulders, and made the hills and valleys echo and re-echo with music that sent a myriad of fairies to hide in the petals of the wild flowers growing in the dell. "It is scarcely necessary to say, that much of John's supreme dignity became greatly tarnished as the hand of adversity stretched his skeleton fingers over Wynford Grange. The number of hounds, by degrees, dwindled down to ten couples, and the ten horses to one. Instead of two whippers-in, and three kennelsmen, who were placed under his immediate arbitrary control and government, these offices had long since been abolished, and the whole now were condensed and united in the person John Prettyman. No banished lord, no prime minister ejected from the feast of loaves and fishes of office, could feel more the loss of his power and tinsel of grandeur than did John; of but with the submission of the Arab to the decree of destiny, he bowed to fate, and, in his own graphic language, made the best of a bad job.' "Little did John Prettyman think, when chewing the cud of the bitter downfall of his grandeur, that he should be called upon for a further pressure upon his resignation. But I anticipate. "For once the huntsman stood with the rein of his saddled horse in his hand before the entrance of the principal court in the kennel, in a spiritless, and, if the expression may be used, hang-dog, wretched, blue-devilish mood. One hand was upon the latch of the gate, while the other held the bridle of his horse, which, perhaps, to keep him in countenance, imitated his sorrowful expression by drooping his head between his knees, and standing so as to rest three of his legs out of the four. "John Prettyman's neckerchief was tied with the same scrupulous care as ever, and his pig VOL. III. G |