expostulation, interposed: " do you forget that
I too have touched the hand of the sainted
Charles, and that my only king is Henry?"

"There was a king in Thule—history of five
hundred years ago—history of the Deluge,"
returned Edgar, coolly. "I might just as well
revive the claims of the Lancashire Greyfaunts
to half a dozen dormant peerages. I dare say we
are entitled to them," he added, with a proud
look.

Then he went on to say that one must live
with the moderns, and take the world as it came.
"A banker's daughter, with a dowry of two
millions, and a pedigree out of the Rue des
Mauvaises Paroles; or Mademoiselle the Marquis's
eldest, with nothing but her virtue (and that of
the most acidulated character), and a genealogical
tree as wide-spreading as a banyan. No,
no, give me Miss Banker and her fat money-
bags."

Warmed by the Chambertin, he began to speak
of the Jockey Club, to which he intended to obtain
admittance some day; of steeple-chases and
billiard-matches; of the cafes and the Bois de
Boulogne; of the duels he had fought, and the
bets he had made (and won, of course); of the
actresses———-

But, when he came to the dramatic chapter of
his adventures, Madame de Kergolay discreetly
whispered to Lily, and she and Vieux Sablons
wheeled the invalid's chair, not, as was
customary, into the boudoir bed-chamber, but into
the salon—the which, in honour of the grand-
nephew's visit, was lighted up with no less than
six wax candles. This was not one of Madame's
reception nights. She only expected the Abbé
Chatain, and found him waiting for her.

TOM MOODY AND CO.

WHAT Englishman possessing any share of
the national vanity, or any proper self-respect,
would declare his ignorance respecting the
manners and customs of the hunting-field, and
the inner life of that grandest of British field
sports, fox-hunting? "We all knew Tom Moody,
the whipper-in, well, of course! We know
about bright Chanticleer proclaiming the morn,
and old Towler joining the cry, and the southerly
wind and the cloudy sky, and the

Hey, ho, Chivy!
Hark forward! hark forward! tanti-vy,

with very quick enunciation and very high upper
note, and all the rest of it. We know Fores's
hunting sketches, and those admirable woodcuts
of Mr. John Leech's, where the " swells " are
always flying their fences, and the "snobs" are
always coming to grief, where the pretty girls,
whom no one else has ever so charmingly
portrayed, are rushing at bulfinches, while those
glorious boys, whom no one else has ever
attempted, are running their Shetlands at raspers.
There is a popular style of literature now, the
hero of which is always an athletic, horsey man,
and, nowithstanding his weight, making it a point
to be up with the first flight throughout the run,
generally winning the heiress and the Great
Poldoody Steeple-chase at one and the same
time, or reproaching the young lady who has
jilted him for a richer suitor, by taking some
terrific and horribly dangerous leap in the very
teeth of the pony she has driven in. a low
wicker carriage to the meet. Thanks in some
measure to the convenience of railways, there
are probably but few of us with a sporting turn
who have not been out with the Queen's stag-
hounds, the Surrey fox-hounds, or who have not,
while staying at Brighton, enjoyed a day's sport
under the generalship of that glorious specimen
of the English yeoman who hunts the Brookside
harriers. But notwithstanding all these
experiences, I have an idea that very few persons,
even those who take great interest in such
matters, have any notion of the enormous
expense and trouble consequent on the managment
of a pack of hounds, and it is for the
benefit of those who are thus ignorant, and who
may be glad of having the whole information in
a handy shape, and in a small compass, without
the trouble of reference to encyclopædias or
heavy statistical works, that these observations,
derived first-hand from two of the first masters
of hounds in England, and carefully compared
with standard authorities, are written.

And first, of the hounds. The number of couple
in a pack of fox-hounds depends on how many
days in a week the pack is hunted. If twice a
week (or with an occasional extra day, called a
"bye-day"), twenty-five couple will be sufficient;
for three days a week, thirty-five couple; and
for four days a week, forty-five couple will be
required. The prices of hounds vary according
to demand and supply. Draft-hounds, i.e. such
as have been selected for steadiness and scenting
powers, generally average three guineas a couple,
but the safest plan for an intending master of
hounds is to consult the advertising columns of
sporting journals, and see whether any well
known and established packs are for sale. At
the present time of writing there is but one
pack in the market, and for them is asked
thirteen guineas a couple. Three or four hundred
guineas is a common price, and one is not likely
to get anything very special for the money, but
a good pack has now and then gone cheap, and
been picked up for five hundred pounds. No
man with any sporting nous would refuse to
give a thousand guineas for a pack of hounds
with a thoroughly established reputation. Much
larger prices are on record. From Mr. Blaine
we learn that in 1826 Mr. Warde, a well-known
sportsman, sold his pack for two thousand
guineas, while in more recent times Mr.
Foljambe's hounds, sold by auction, in lots, at
Tattersall's, realised three thousand six hundred
pounds, one lot of five couple fetching three
hundred and eighty guineas, and another of four
couple and a half four hundred and eighty
guineas. Here is your preliminary expense.

Having provided your pack, you will, of
course, have prepared your kennel for them,