Slingsby meanwhile from the waters rose,

Where deepest and strongest the mid-current flows;

Manfully stemming its onward course,

He struck for the boat with his failing force.

Then feebly one arm was uplifted, in vain
Striving to snatch at the chesnut's mane,
For that faithful steed, through the rolling tide,
Had swum like a dog to his master's side.

At length by the stream, he can buffet no more,
Borne, bleeding and pale, to the farther shore,
There, as the Slingbys had ofttimes lain,
Lay the last of that House in his harness slain!

Sprung from a knightly and time-honour'd race,
Pride of thy county! and chief of her chase!
Though a stranger, not less is his sorrow sincere,
Who now weeps o'er the close of thy gallant career.

Let Yorkshire, while England re-echoes her wail,
Bereft of her bravest, record the sad tale,
How Slingsby of Scriven at Newby fell,

In the heat of that chase which he lov'd so well.

OUTDOOR SERVANTS.-No. II., THE WHIPPERS-IN. BY THE GENTLEMAN IN BLACK.'

POOR Jack Woodcock! Often, but many years ago, have I seen him (and methinks I see him now') leading in his proper place in front of the pack, through the park-gates at Althorp, or along the Daventry and Braunston Road; or later in the day, when business had begun, quietly sheltered behind the accommodating boll of a large tree, silently waiting for the fox to break at a favourite corner, and holding up his finger to some too zealous advocate of the sport to hold his tongue till the proper moment for screeching. What a beau-idéal of a whipper-in was Jack! So neat, so wiry, so well made and well put upon his horse, with his shapely leg-shapely that is for a boot-hanging just where it should, immoveable and well pressed home. And when they were out of cover and began to run, ah! then, Jack, all eulogy as a whip ceases, and we begin to recognise one of the very neatest and quickest of horsemen, a leetle too fond of the front rank, and so capable of being in it. But that zeal, Jack, shall be forgiven for your many good qualities; and scarcely an old habitué of the Pytchley country but will endorse my verdict of the beau-idéal of a whipper-in.'

'Beau-idéal, indeed!' says young Flash. I understand what is 'meant by the beau-idéal of a cavalry officer; but a whipper-in!'

Yes, sir, a whipper-in; and no small praise either. I love cavalry officers myself, as all men with good-looking marriageable daughters are bound to do; and very good fellows many of them are. But there are plenty of them about in the world, as plentiful as blackberries, and Jack Woodcocks are a very scarce article indeed. You shall hear something about them and their business, and you will be inclined to give them a higher place, at all events in the hunting field, thanle brave sabreur' himself would have attained.

This sort, like the huntsman, is also taken in early life, and cannot be trained late. Indeed, if he have not a real taste for the business, he cannot be trained at all. His name denotes the most characteristic of his duties, but it is far from comprising them all. The late Mr. Holmes, of the House of Commons, or the present Mr. Glyn, would tell you that the whipping up the hounds to the cheer of their leader is but a small part of the pleasures or duties of office; and if riding over a country seems to make all obligations agreeable, there are others which require very different tastes and capabilities for their full and perfect enjoyment.

The first great virtue which belongs to a whipper-in is just that one with which the huntsman can so readily dispense; I mean obedience. The obedience of a whip should be that of a soldier on duty. When the huntsman is in the field, and demands his assistance, it must be given most uncompromisingly. He may think that the huntsman is a great fool, and he may be quite right, but let him think so at some other time. Whether he is ordered to stop the hounds, to get forward, to hold hard, to go back, or anything else, whether right or wrong, he must do it. It may be that he knows it is not the hunted fox: if the huntsman chooses to have the hounds turned to him to hunt a fresh one, it is no time for Jack to remonstrate. Let him grumble to himself, or pour his sorrows into the ear of some rustic admirer when off duty. In the saddle there is but one thing for him to do, and let him do it. What makes this particularly hard is, that a whip should have a head upon his shoulders quite as much as a huntsman. If he have not he had better have remained in the stable to strap horses, or ride after the young ladies, if neat enough in his appearance. If he aspire to the rank of a whipper-in, he must make use of his brains. And I have always found that men with brains are the hardest to convince of the necessity of acting against their convictions. However, as we may premise that every whipperin with any mind at all aspires to become a huntsman, it is but right that his probationary state should be such as he will desire to see in his own subaltern when he handles the horn, 'There's a time for all things a huntsman must command in the field, and the whip must obey.

A whip should not only be as good a horseman as his superior, but he should, if possible, be quicker and readier. His horsemanship will not only be employed in keeping with hounds to render the aid which is likely to be expected of him, but, as a part of his duty

will be the chastisement of erring hounds, in cover, or out of cover, and as a hound has a pretty shrewd sense of what is likely to follow detection in wrong-doing, he will occasionally have some very sharp work to reach a delinquent. In these cases, i.e., where punishment ought to follow, to rate is useless. It at once renders the operation more difficult than ever, and at length the lash too frequently descends upon the innocent. The take-it-among-ye' principle, which might do with a lazy team, when the coachman woke up from a reverie, is a very bad one with a pack of hounds. The chastisement, too, should not only fall on the right hound, but should be prompt and severe. If the administrator happen to be a slack horseman, it is just possible that in giving as much force as he can to the descent of the lash, he may a little overbalance himself; and if at the same moment his horse should swerve or the hound dodge him, he may (as I once saw a whip do) go head over heels into the middle of the pack. He will not, Actæcn-like, be eaten by his own dogs, but the blackthorn in early spring is evidently not meant to sit down upon. Having got thus far on the subject of punishment, which is peculiarly the business of a whipper-in, as the huntsman's first object is to reconcile hounds to him, we may as well get through it at once. Chastisement must be severe with hounds, as I have already said, but it must not be indiscriminate; for there are as many tempers and dispositions in a pack of hounds as in a public school, and they require as much observation to detect and as much tact to manage, as a pack of boys. Where a rate will do, whipcord is thrown away; and where nothing but whipcord will correct offences, let the blow come first and the rate afterwards. In qualifying to take the place, upon occasion, of the huntsman, this will be found to have raised a prejudice against the whip difficult to be got over; but that must not influence him in one of the principal duties of his office. A quick eye and good knowledge of country is a sine quâ non. He should know (which is the result of observation and practice) all the short cuts, bridle-gates, easy lines, and practicable roads from one cover to another. His place at the head of the pack will be to keep them clear of obstacles, to open gates, regulate pace, and to bring them to cover as speedily and easily as possible. He must know the earths, stopped or open; the peculiarities of certain covers and scenting-grounds, so as to take advantage of a beaten fox, which hounds deserve, but which would be saved but for this know

ledge, which experience only can give him. give him. It not unfrequently happens that such a whipper-in as I am describing does more than two-thirds of the work; and so far from feeling himself in a subordinate situation, may claim at least equal merit with the huntsman. Having taken his place and viewed away his fox, it will be his business to moderate his zeal. He must not halloa too soon. He may take time now to thoroughly scrutinise his customer, so that in case of accident he may make no mistake about the hunted fox during the run. You see, he may possibly be called upon to identify the prisoner, and it is a fatal mistake in the whipper-in to put you

on to the wrong thief; though it might be excusable in a young gentleman from Lewis and Allenby's, or an undergraduate, if they ever hunt now. Instead, therefore, of halloaing at first, let him take a good look at the fox. Somebody is sure to halloa, sooner or later; for some halloa without viewing him at all; others view and halloa simultaneously, wherever it may be. The whipper-in, however, having taken stock of Renard, will bide his time, and when well away will give a scream, which the huntsman will know to be unmistakeable.

I don't recommend a whipper-in to go, like my poor friend Jack, at once to the front. He did not do so always, but far too frequently. It will be better to assist in getting the body of the hounds out of cover, so that they may run with some head, leaving the stragglers to be brought up by his subordinate, who is not unfrequently a boy, learning his business. Then getting alongside of the pack, downwind, that he may hear anything wrong, and be able to act on any emergency, he must ride. Then his knowledge of country, covers, earths, the lines of the foxes, and the very foxes themselves, will be invaluable. I am a great stickler for fair play: but a fox employs some wiles to beat you, and you must, to a certain extent, foil him with his own weapons. You cannot always run him from point to point and then kill him in the open. A good whipper-in, fond of sport and of some experience, will know when his intelligence will aid the huntsman, and when it will only help to mob his victim. If hounds have run their fox well, and really deserve to be rewarded for their pains, it is false delicacy in a whipper-in not to get on with the hope of a view, when the scent is dying away, either from change of atmosphere, or ground, or to keep his victim from his stronghold. It is his duty to do all this; and I need not now say that a good whipper-in may not be quite fitted for a seat on the bench, but that he must be very far from a fool.

The second whip is of much less consequence in the field, but in cover he should be handy with his hounds, so that, when the first whip halloas a fox from his corner, or any more fortunate outsider from another point does the same, the huntsman may be well seconded by him. For I need hardly inform a discerning public, that it is a great thing in a woodland country to press your fox so closely as to prevent his hanging or running round upon his previous line. He knows the advantage of such a shelter; and if only one or two couples of hounds can be got upon him at once, the chances are against his seeking the open till he has given both hounds and horses a considerable bucketing up and down the rides. A clever boy is very available for this situation if he be a good horseman. Every one must have a beginning. But he should be a clever boy, and not put up only because he can ride. In fact these light boys, if not blessed with brains, are likely to ruin more horses by their stupidity or rashness than they ever can save by their weight.

There is one way of teaching them, as indeed there is of teaching everybody it is by not overlooking first faults. If they are made to

do their duty properly as second whips in a good kennel, sent back to fetch hounds when missing by their haste or carelessness, and taught from the beginning to be obedient, tidy, civil, and active, as underlings, there is no doubt that they will never want a place when age fits them for advanced duties. But if you want to make a careless, indifferent blackguard of a boy, blow him up as occasion offers; swear at him sometimes; take no notice of him at others; never make him feel the real inconvenience of his bad conduct; and you will fully succeed. You will neither get anything done for yourself nor will he ever be likely to do better for anybody else.

Well! all this has reference to the obligations of a whipper-in in the field. Has he nothing to do but to tally-ho the fox, occasionally punish a hound, turn them when he sees they require it or the huntsman orders him to do so, open the gates, jump the fences, not quite in the first flight, but somewhere near where he can enjoy the sport and see the hunting, ready to view the beaten fox, or head him before he gets to a convenient drain? if so, it's a most desirable life, and it seems odd that the whole world is not made up of country gentlemen and first whippers-in.

True, but there is something more. There are some kennel duties; and the reason why these cannot be defined so easily is that, like other services, the kennels of England vary considerably in their requirements and capabilities of remuneration. Everybody knows that a housemaid in one house is a maid-of-all-work in another: that if Lord Jones has a dozen servants the cook will not answer the door, the footman will not carry coals higher than the drawing-room, the young ladies'-maid will not sit down with the nurse, and the butler was not engaged to take in the letters where a hall-porter was kept. Indeed the higher the wages and the greater the numbers the less there ought to be done for you by any one servant. It is the way of the world, from the Civil Service up to the Privy Council of the Celestial Empire. Mr. Smith has been married five years and has three children, and as many hundreds a year. The cook and housemaid clean everything and everybody, from the baby's boots to the back hair of Smith's wife. Kennels are just like houses. Some whippers-in clean their horses; others do not. The latter are paid the better of the two, and it is certainly hard lines to expect it after a good run. They are expected to take part in the management of the kennel; to see to its cleanliness-no small work if it be as thoroughly done as it should be, and usually is; to assist the feeder in many operations, and to do their utmost to assist in bringing the hounds out in such condition as shall reflect credit upon the establishment. They are subservient in all this to the huntsman, and must give him ungrudging service. In the same way they are always required to attend hounds at exercise, and to prepare them for the cub-hunting season by strict discipline: and especially by restraining the young hounds from everything like riot. The huntsman cannot do this: for it is as much his business to endear hounds to him, and to make them love and follow him, as it is the business of