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with rabbits or hedgehogs: the dogs are more than half ruined in breaking, although Guess will point a single bird until your dinner is cooked and ate, and although Jet will retrieve a winged cock pheasant in a hundred-acre wood. This is their creed and mode of proceeding, from the best to the worst; and your only mode of arming yourself against the annoyance, resulting from their coxcombry, is by laying in a double store of philosophy for the first week of your new Don Velvetino's services.

Trusting that Providence will protect you from all the knaves and fools who will swarm to your place with protestations of their possessing every perfection which can form a very Chevalier Bayard, and both of whom will ultimately, although by different means, obtain the same end-viz. stripping your land of every head of game-I must conclude, for my paper, though not my subject, is nearly run out.-Addio, mio caro Tom, ever thine, TASSEL.

(To be continued.)

THE LORD OF THE DESERT.

THE Lord of the Desert! he has wander'd away

To the stream of the fountain that burns in the sun,
With a blood-stirring spirit to watch for his prey,

Which he fells swift as falls a light ray from the moon.

Go gaze on the Sovereign of Forest and Plain,

How his eye like a red-star flames fierce 'neath his brow;
How his shaggy locks, black as the death-curse of Cain,
Like the snakes of Medusa, curl darkly and glow.

How proudly he spurns the dry dust of the earth!

How lightly, how lordly he springs from the ground!
He walks and he looks like a King from his birth-
The Monarch supreme of the solitudes round.

With his tail how disdainful he winnows the air,

Now lashes his yellow sides flaming like gold ;

He pauses! he crouches! ye Whirlwinds, declare,

Were your Spirits released, were your Thunders unroll'd?

Ah, no! 'twas the roar of the Desert's dread Lord!

He has summon'd his victims to gaze on his eye,

And all who his volcanic voicings have heard

Ilave the mandate obeyed......they have gazed, and they die!

Who may meet that stern glance, nor confess in despite
Of the death-brooding terrors the spirit invade,

'Tis the proudest, most noble, the lordliest light

That ever sprung forth from so deadly a shade.
Like Man he but feeds-he but feeds, and no more,
Then away to his couch in some dark rocky cave;
Unlike Man, he destroys not when sated with gore*,
Nor slays for the sake of but gorging the grave.

* The Lion preys not upon carcases."-SOUTHEY.

Tho' dreaded, he's honour'd; tho' a tyrant, he reigns;
Yet a tyrant who vengeance descends not to plan......
He is King of the Forest, and Lord of the Plains,

And vengeance he leaves to the Tiger and Man!

See him rise in his wrath, like a star thro' a storm,
His glance will rain fire, and his anger defies;
He crushes the strongest, as man doth the worm...
But with his red victim his fury too dies.

Who meets the proud Lord of the Forest?-who dates
Single-handed in combat assail such a foe?

A foe! whom Man spares not, whom often he spares,

Must not fall single-handed! who gives him the blow?

Hark! the shout of the Savage, whom fear still betrays,
Tho' shouts of dark hundreds are swelling the gale;
As the lightning speaks thunder, so terror his gaze;

Tho' hundreds assail him, yet hundreds turn pale!

They have roused the dread Monarch! they've pointed the spear!
He has look'd on them all as the moon on a cloud;
He has lighted their gloom with the whiteness of fear,
And sternly and slowly retires from the crowd.

One javʼlin is flung! and it falls at his feet;

Indignant he turns on the black-brooding host. Another!-he roars as when mountain streams meet,

And, warrior-like, bursts where the lances rain most.

One victim has fallen-another succeeds;

They fly like the dark dust before the simoom; But wo wo to the King of the Forest!......he bleeds, Out-number'd his spirit is mantled with gloom.

As the last lovely leaf on the desolate bough,

On which all the whirlwinds of winter descend,
He expires! he bends to the red earth his brow......
For who in distress ever yet found a friend?

Unmatched, tho' outnumber'd, he dies as should die
The Lord of the Desert, the Mountain, and Plain :

A lofty defiance still burns in his eye,

And scorn of his foes in each quivering vein.

A fire-stream of lances! of lauces alone,

Laid thy brow's brightest honours, intrepid one, low;

They hunted thee, thou Monarch of Woods, from thy throne...... Man slew thee!-the world's and his own greatest foe.

Then hail to the Mighty, the Noble, the King

Of the Desert, the Plain, and the Solitudes vast!
Ye who feared him whilst living, your homage may bring,
And honor his relics.............for his spirit has past!

H. C. D.

SIR,

THE EAST SUFFOLK HARRIERS.

AVING heard much of the performances of the East Suffolk Harriers, I was induced to take the opportunity, previously to the conclusion of their season, to give them a look; and I accordingly mounted my nag and proceeded to Brundish Lodge, their place of meeting. After an interchange of compliments, &c. with the worthy proprietor, the hounds, headed by old John Bantock, made their appearance, and, as far as my judgment extends, a more compact symmetrical lot I never saw, and certainly well adapted to their country, where plenty of bush-fighting (the consequence of small inclosures) must be required. A short interval only elapsed before N. Barthrop, Esq. the Master, and several Gentlemen of the Hunt, arrived, and we proceeded to business instanter. Fortunately we had not long to wait for "tantara;" and off we started for the village of Laxfield, about two miles distant, and were gratified by a fine burst for that short distance without a check. A cold north-easterly wind, with the land as dry as dust, however, augured ill for sport, and puss eventually eluded our pursuit, although a display of some excellent cold hunting afterwards told me scent only was required.

A considerable time transpired before we again could rouse our game; but the well-known halloo of ould John gave us notice to

quicken our pace, and some very pretty hunting led us straight a-head in the direction of Baddingham Hall Wood, thence to the Church, skirting afterwards Barnes's Grove, on to Dennington

Hall, thence to Sunith's Spring, and finally making a splendid finish, in running from scent to view, in the boundary of Ubbeston. This run sufficiently convinced me that in cases of check, the generally too-much practised pedestrian, alias telegraphic assistance, in slow hunting, is not required with this excellent pack; and indeed the cry of the Gentlemen of the Hunt is, on all such occasions, proh pudor! The appearance and distress of many of the prads gave evident proof of having quantum suff. for the day; and after discussing the praises of some and the demerits of others, I turned my horse's head for home, and exeunt omnes.

In speaking of the East Suffolk Harriers, perhaps I may be excused when I state, that on first inspection they did not appear quite so even as would be desirable; yet in chase I could discover very little tailing, and was surprised at their packing so admirably in so good a run. Ould John Bantock, however, in the kennel is a tower of strength, to which the condition of the hounds

bore ample testimony; and if occasionally his powerful aid at critical junctures is wanted through extreme age (being upwards of seventy), their genuine goodness sufficiently cancelled such defection, as with a fair scent they are, I doubt not, rarely at fault.

That your valuable periodical may be widely disseminated, and success attend Mr. Barthrop and his hounds, is, Mr. Editor, the most ardent wish of yours, &c. CHAUNTRY.

April 30, 1832.

I

SIR,

FARTHER REMARKS ON GREYHOUNDS. (Continued from our April Number, p. 409.)

Now proceed to offer a few more remarks on the assertions to be found in print respecting Greyhounds.

Osbaldeston (whose work Col. Hawker terms one of the fine old standards) says, "Here you may take notice as to the breeding of greyhounds, that the best dog upon an indifferent bitch will not get so good a whelp as an indifferent dog upon the best bitch :" (British Sportsman, tit. Greyhound) whilst the Suffolk Sportsman, in his very spirited and original work, thus expresses himself: "Whether I am on the side of majority or minority I know not, when I declare, I think the derivation from the male greater than from the female; and should expect to improve the breed, from a good dog and a so-so bitch, sooner and with more certainty than from the contrary conjunction. Many dissent from me I know; and perhaps more than a few subscribe to my creed. Matribus hædos will most surely be thrown in my teeth by my brethren in opposition as a clincher; but, allowing him to be the poet, it does not necessarily follow that l'irgil was a natural philosopher also." (p. 28.)

The author of the work called the Country Farm takes notice of these different opinions as having their several patrons even in his time (in the year 1616), upwards of 200 years ago. "There be some Gentlemen of the Leash desire a most principal bitch, though the dog be but indifferent: there be other Gentlemen of the Leash which desire a good dog, and re

spect not though the bitch be but indifferent." This author settles the dispute by stating that the latter is the better choice or opinion; but adds (very truly I conceive) that both opinions are fallacious, in assuming that a good whelp can be the produce of parents, one of whom is of indifferent quality. He adds, "for where there is any imperfection at all, there nature can never be fully complete. To breed then a perfect good whelp indeed, you must be sure to have a perfect good dog and a perfect good bitch; and, as near as you can, make choice of that bitch which is most large, and deepest chested ; for thence springeth both strength and wind."-(Courser's Compa nion, pp. 164-5.)

I do not mean to deny that good whelps may be the produce of a good dog and an indifferent 'bitch, or of a good bitch and an indifferent dog; but I mean to say, first, that if the whelps are good, this is the effect of chance: secondly, that the greater probability, if not the moral certainty, would be, that the whelps would have been far better had both the parents been excellent; and thirdly,that though the whelps may be better than the worst of their parents, they will most likely be inferior to the best. By placing a bad greyhound to a good one, the breed of the former will in general be as much improved as the breed of the latter will be deteriorated. I would, therefore, advise every sportsman, whose good fortune it is to possess an excellent greyhound, if he should

be desirous of preserving the stock, to spare no expense, nor regret any trouble, to obtain the best blood to breed from. The better his own greyhound is, the greater the shame if he matches it with an inferior animal of the opposite sex.

Having mentioned the Suffolk Sportsman, I should, in candour, notice his opinion. It is against the brindled greyhound, which he rather quaintly designates as a lurcher rectified (p. 33). He is also an advocate for the dog in preference to the bitch, and says, "let every circumstance that can be desired concur in favour of her, ceteris paribus a dog will always beat her in extremity." (p. 47.)

My reasons for dissenting from these opinions I have already stated. I only now add, that many a beautiful theory vanishes before the light of experience: facts, as often observed, are stubborn things.

You are aware that one of the Duke of Norfolk's Laws of the Leash requires twelve score yards to be given the hare before the greyhounds are slipped, "unless there be danger of losing her." This has always appeared to me to be a most preposterous distance. I concur with the author of the Courser's Companion, that it is difficult to fix any general rule in this respect, because so much must depend upon the nature of the ground and other casual circumstances. I go farther, and think that no general rule ought to define the distance which the hare should be allowed before the greyhounds are slipped. This author himself fixes four or five score yards, "if the nature of the ground will admit of it without danger of losing her." (Cour

ser's Companion, p. 89.)--If I were to choose between the Duke of Norfolk and these distances, I would decide in favour of the latter: but, in disagreeing with both, I cannot but remark, that the condition attached to the law, as laid down by each of them in succession, affords itself an argument against the law.

Mr. Osbaldeston says, that a greyhound "ought to be coursed three times a week."--The Suffolk Sportsman observes, "if a dog has his share of the day, two days in the week ought to be his stint. Twice in the week he will run his whole self: beyond is abuse and prostitution-driving him to meanness and foul play (to save reputation as he thinks) in giving his quota. If I might use the phrase, I would say it was forcing him upon the highway, quocunque modo, rem." (p. 38.)-If I may venture to dissent from such authority, I would say, that twice a week regularly during the coursing season is too much for any greyhound, assuming he is to have an average share of work. would rather say, that a clear four days should always intervene between one coursing day and another, and this period at the least. Cunning will otherwise be substituted for speed and stoutness, and the greyhound reduced to the lurcher.

I

Before I conclude, allow me to mention two very curious dogs at the Zoological Gardens, which are ticketed as Persian greyhounds. They are of a dark colour, almost black, except under the stomach, &c. where they are of a tan or white colour. They have rather large and pendulous ears, and tails with much hair, resembling setters. In short, had

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