the bluest of blood, can be traced on his thunderous neck, and his nostrils quiver in ruddy distension, as with sobbing flank he wheels round short at the gate, ready for an instant start should the signal be given by sight or sound. Now, as the spin has imparted appetite, they move off by twos and threes as their various inclinations lead them; and, rounding the point of a winding lane at the ash clump, the white gate opens upon half a score of fillies, dotted about pastures glittering with starry kingcups, like golden studs upon some elfin vest. The white-legged chestnut trots familiarly up for her wonted caress, and soon we are closed in on every side by such a rosebud garden of girls as no Turf laureate has yet described. The pert forward hoyden of 'fast' proclivities; the sober-looking lady of title, whose every movement is dignity and grace; the jolly girl, looking for a game of romps as a pleasing interlude to the feeding business of the day; and the backward and bashful miss, who steals fearfully away to hide her beauties from the public gaze. The flutter of a handkerchief sends them gently cantering down under the hedge towards the fence by the public road, along which the miller's wain crawls heavily, and at a crack of the waggoner's whip the pace mends, the field sweep grandly past our knoll of observation, as they make for their favourite haunt under yonder plantation. Infinite varieties of action!-the steady sweeping low gallop, the short scratchy rush, the awkward scramble, and the flashy style of going, with arched neck, knee bent like a park hack, high flying flag, and head turned self-approvingly to one side. Rising the incline, the old tale of lagging astern begins upon those cursed with faulty hind action, and we may note how this fair one improves as she warms to her work, or what a falling-off there is in that seemingly perfect piece of machinery, when steam comes to be applied, and its working is tested under high pressure. Still, ideas formed at the indoor inspection are for the most part confirmed; and we turn away, as the young ladies once more settle down to their 'customs of an afternoon.'

Pleasant it were to linger on those blossoming uplands, where haughty dames of the highest lineage consort so lovingly with the bluff black Galloways, trim Devons, and Alderneys shaped and coloured like fawns. We halt upon the hill-top,

'Foot-gilt with all the blossom-dust of those
Deep meadows we have traversed,'

watching the rain-clouds as they race in varying shadow-dance along Epsom's verdant ridge, until the wandering eye rests at last on yonder white speck, from which, ere Baily' puts forth his June leaves, shall echo the shout of a nation welcoming home its Derby king. The rooks flap lazily nestwards, the rabbit steals timidly forth in quest of evening meat, and the chorus of woodland songsters wafts a liquid farewell to the parting guests, as with reluctant feet and charmed eyes he wends his way through hawthorn-scented lanes, and over gorsey commons homewards between the showers.'

AMPHION.

REMINISCENCES OF A FOX-HUNTER IN ESSEX. HITHERTO I had lived in Herts, and I have given you, in your two last numbers, a sample of the reign of two Masters in that county, viz., Mr. Sebright and Mr. Delme Radcliffe, with whose hounds I hunted regularly; but now circumstances induced me to reside in Essex, and, after a year or so, experience taught me that the Rodings of Essex was the best plough country in England, both to ride over and to see hounds; and, although my house was twentyfive miles from the nearest good meet, yet I preferred going there to hunting nearer home. I generally rode to cover in my younger days, and I had a little hack, only 14 hds. 2 in., that I once rode twenty-five miles to cover in the morning, and the same distance back in the evening (after hunting), doing the whole distance in five hours, and as I walked thirteen stone it was no bad performance. But such wear and tear was useless, and from that time I used to station my hunter for a month or so (when the weather was likely to be open) at Dunmow, at the Saracen's Head, and myself and a friend drive over and sleep over-night. It was very good stabling for horses, but wonderfully dirty and bad accommodation for Christians; but the prospect of a good day's sport made us put up with a deal.

Mr. Conyers at that time hunted the country, and had done so for more than forty years. He resided at Copt Hall, close to Epping, where he had his kennels, quite at the farther extremity of his country. However his hounds seldom slept out, but went from their kennel in the morning and returned home at night, not unfrequently making a détour of a mile or two to bilk a turnpike. Mr. Conyers was a rare good sportsman, with a wonderful eye and ear. He never rode over fences, but from knowing the country he was generally up at the end. One day we had run a fox from Man Wood straight over the Rodings very fast, and we ran up to Skreens. I and about five more were galloping down a ride in the covert with the hounds (as we thought) close on our right, thinking the Squire was at least six miles away, when suddenly we came round a corner full tilt against him; and his exclamation, 'Where the devil are you going? 'Don't you hear that he has turned?' and truly he was right. His good ear had heard them turn before we did; but it was always an enigma to me how he ever got there.

To meet him at his own house he was a perfect gentleman, rather of the old school, but in the field he would say anything. I remember a friend of mine getting a nasty fall, which merely elicited from Mr. Conyers' lips, ‘D— -n you! I wish you had broken your • neck!' But this was quite lady-like compared with his usual language. I could fill pages with his 'sayings, but would rather forget them and record his doings,' and the wonderful sport that he showed.

When I hunted with him the servants in his establishment were, Jem Morgan his huntsman, Will Orvis his first whip, and Charles Sheppard his second. Jem Morgan was a splendid rider, with the best hands on a horse that I ever saw. But he took to farming and got into difficulties, and was obliged in a year or two to give up his situation; but he went to Lord Lonsdale, who at that time had a pack at Tring, which hunted anything that his Lordship chose to bring down from London. When he retired, his son took his place, and old Jem continued to hunt with them occasionally; and one day, on a frosty morning, as he was trotting to cover on the side of the road his horse slipped up, and gave him a very severe fall. However, he rode on to the meet, and actually turned the hounds to his son; but, feeling very bad, he rode to a farm-house, got off, laid down on a sofa, and died immediately, his neck being broken. After Jem Morgan retired from being Mr. Conyers' huntsman, Bill Orvis was intrusted with the horn, and hunted them till the death of Mr. Conyers, and very good and cheery he was in the field. After Mr. Conyers' death he went to Sir Charles Kingsley, and was drowned with his master in that dreadful accident in Yorkshire. Charles Sheppard went to Mr. Scratton and hunted his hounds, and then he went to Lord Leconfield, with whom he is still, and is a first-rate huntsman.

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There were but few earths in my time in the Rodings; but the foxes were chiefly stock-bred, and generally very wild ones. member once we were going to draw Man Wood, and were about two miles from it, when the second whip had occasion to rate a hound and crack his whip, when Jem Morgan exclaimed, 'What do 'you do that for, you idiot? Don't you know that we are up wind, and if there is a fox in Man Wood he will be off?' And, sure enough, when we got there, he had taken himself off, and though we hunted him a magnificent line over the Rodings we never could go any pace by reason of the start he had got, and he ran us out of

scent.

Mr. Conyers' were fine, strong hounds, rather large—not grand to look at on the flags, but capital in the field-always carrying a good head, and bowling over those ditches ten or more abreast. It is a fine country to see hounds work; no impediments of trees, and coverts at nice distances apart.

1848. December 30.-Met Mr. Conyers' hounds at Man Wood, 'had one hour in covert, and then away fifty minutes over the country without a check or touching a covert across the Rodings, ' and ran into him in an open field close to Epping. This was a 'splendid run.

1849. Fanuary 20.-Mr. Conyers had an extraordinary hard day. Found at Garnetts, to Bigods at a moderate pace, where they got upon good terms with him and ran hard to West Wood, which he skirted, and then turning up wind they ran very fast indeed to Anessey, and then all over the country, and after three hours and < twenty minutes ran into him.

Fanuary 22.-Fyfield. A stormy night and morning. Drew Barmish and Garnish blank. Found at Leaden Roding. The day getting better, rattled him up and down in covert, and away through Garnish and onwards, gradually getting on better terms; through Barmish on to Skreens, where he waited for us, and they ran him once round the covert, and we got upon excellent terms. Up to 'this it had been half an hour away from Skreens without a check or touching a covert by Good Easter. Turning to the right by Mashbury, ran into him by the side of the brook at Byton Hall in one hour from Skreens. Á very good thing.

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1850. December 3.-With Mr. Conyers at High Roding Street. Found in Old Park a very short-running fox, and after a moderate 'half hour went to ground close to Old Park. Found again behind 'Mr. Wilson's house, and after some work in covert away to Fitzjohn's, where he hung for some time; at last away, and sharpish up to Rowe Wood, where he again hung, and they killed him in 'the covert in about one hour from the find.

'December 11.-At Porter's Hall. A fox slipped away behind us; away with him by Saling and Bardfield, and to ground in a small covert close to Panfield in thirty-five minutes, over a very 'cramped country. Found again and had a capital thirty minutes, ' and ran into him.

December 26.-From Woodside Green away by Hatfield across the Rodings to Skreens in fifty minutes-very fast indeed, no one being able to keep nearer than two fields from them. Here they 'probably changed, and went on at a good pace for more than an 'hour, and lost near Chelmsford owing to a cold storm of rain.

'December 28.-At Easton Lodge. Found in Dunmow High Wood; rattled him up and down and away close at him very fast, 'leaving Dunmow Town on our right by Hoglin Wood, crossed the 'Dunmow and Thaxted Road and over the brook, leaving Mr. 'Woodbridge's house on their right to Bigods, straight through it and away to Dow Wood, through it and away for Anessey, but 'finding that he could not make his point, he made a ring of a few 'fields and back to Dow Wood in thirty minutes without a check; ' rattled him in covert and he broke, and they ran into him in the open in three fields.

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1851. Fanuary 13.-Matching Green. Drew Rowe Wood; found, and away at a very good pace to Man Wood; hung there a little while and away back to Rowe Wood fast, and sinking the 'wind, ran at the back of Hatfield to Mr. Wilson's, and lost him 'close to Caufield Hart. Drew Caufield Hart, and either hit upon ' our hunted fox or found a fresh one; and, after bucketting him up ' and down in covert, away up wind as hard as they could lick, and 'to ground in New Hall Wood. A very fair scent, and up wind 'capital. Mr. Conyers out.

January 20.-Hatfield Heath. Trotted on to Leaden Roding, 'drawing some small coverts on the way. Found at Roffy, hung for 'a little time in covert, then away very fast all up wind by Hunt's

'Wood to Garnett's, through it to Old Park and on to Mums 'Hedges without a check; here turned back to Old Park, but made 'his way back to Mums Hedges and to ground in forty minutes from the find. Drew Caufield Thrift; had a very fast twenty minutes ' over a capital country and to ground.

Fanuary 27.-Hatfield Heath. Found at Warder's Grove; ' away to Rowe Wood, through it to Commas Hall Farm, and away 'to Poplars, thence to Broomshawbury Springs, and to the left as if he was going to Hatfield Park, but turned to the right, as if to 'make Caufield Hart; but before reaching the Hart the fox was 'coursed by a dog which drove him down to Fitzjohn's, through 'Mr. Wilson's grounds and plantations, by the Griffin at Caufield, 'as though the fox intended making Caufield Thrift, but left the Thrift to the right, and pointed for Dunmow Highwood; then, 'suddenly turning to the left, he made his way back to Caufield 'Hart, over three miles of most severe country, both as to depth of 'soil and fencing. A check here, but the fox kept on through the upper part of the Hart, away to Prior's Wood, right through the 'wood and out at the lower end, pointing for East End Wood, but 'bore_away to the right and made Lord Maynard's Layers, through 'the Layers and away to Moor End, and thence to Tiltey; from 'whence he went at a racing pace over a fine country of large 'fields, and was run into from scent to view at Horeham Hall, about a mile from Thaxted. This was altogether as good a hunting run ' and as fine a finish as any country could afford. Time, two hours. 'March 27. Porter's Hall. Found at Bush Wood, and away ' very fast without a check, and ran him to ground at Weathersfield in thirty minutes. Distance upwards of six miles, and the country ' tremendously heavy. A capital thing: pace first rate.

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1852. Fanuary 19.-Hatfield Heath. Drew Down Hall and spinnies about blank, as also Man Wood. Found at the further end of Brittles; turned down wind directly and away, but hounds 'some little time in getting after him, owing to another fox back in ( covert. A good hunting pace to Man Wood, through it and away to Down Hall; hung there a little, away on one side and then on 'the other and back, hanging about in those spinnies, and at last 'killed him in a farm-yard beyond Hatfield Heath, in one hour and a half from the find.

'Fanuary 28.-High Roding Street. Drew Row Wood (as also 'several small coverts) blank. Trotted to Caufield Hart and 'found; away not upon good terms, owing to another fox being 'back in covert, which delayed them. Hunted slowly by Caufield Thrift to the Mount, turning to the right, crossed the Caufield brook to High Easter; turned more to the right by Aythorp 'Roding, and gradually getting on better terms ran faster and faster, and making a good ring again, came by the Thrift out into 'Mr. Wilson's premises, where they killed him in a cart-shed. <Time, one hour and thirty minutes; a capital hunting run.'

Mr. Conyers was generally out with his hounds, and was rather