Mr. Punch in the Hunting Field by J. A. Hammerton and John Leech (most difficult books to read txt) đź“•
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- Author: J. A. Hammerton and John Leech
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"I thought so," he continued.
"Well, you might do me a bright little article—about half a column, you know—on hunting, will you?"
Why should I hesitate? Jobson is safe for cash; and he had not asked me to give my own experiences of the hunting field. I replied warily, "I fancy I know the sort of thing you want."
"Good," he said, and before we could arrive at any detailed explanation he had banged the door and dashed downstairs, jumped into his hansom and was off.
This was the article:-
THOUGHTS ON HUNTING.It is hardly possible to overrate the value of hunting as a National sport. Steeplechasing is a Grand-National sport, but it is the sport of the rich, whereas hunting is not. By judiciously dodging the Hunt Secretary, you can, in fact, hunt for nothing. Of course, people will come at me open-mouthed for this assertion, and say, "How about the keep of your horses?" To which I reply, "If you keep a carriage, hunt the carriage horse; if you don't, borrow a friend's horse for a long ride in the country, and accidentally meet the hounds." To proceed. This has been a season of poor scent. Of course, the horses of the present[Pg 85] day have deteriorated as line hunters: they possess not the keen sense of smell which their grandsires had. But despite this the sport goes gaily on. There are plenty of foxes—but we cannot agree with the popular idea of feeding them on poultry. And yet, in every hunt, we see hunters subscribing to poultry funds. This is not as it should be: Spott's meat biscuit would be much better for foxes' food.
But these be details: let us hie forrard and listen to the cheery voice of sly Reynard as he is winded from his earth. The huntsman blows his horn, and soon the welkin rings with a chorus of brass instruments; the tufters dash into covert, and anon the cheerful note of Ponto or Gripper gives warning that a warrantable fox is on foot—well, of course, he couldn't be on horseback, but this is merely a venatorial façon de parler. Away go the huntsmen, showing marvellous dexterity in cracking their whips and blowing their horns at the same moment. Last of all come the hounds, trailing after their masters—ah, good dogs, you cannot hope to keep up very far with the swifter-footed horses! Nevertheless, they strain at their leashes and struggle for a better place at the horses' heels. "Hike forrard! tally ho! whoo-hoop!" They swoop over the fields like a charge of cavalry. But after several hours' hard running a check is at hand: the fox falters, then struggles on again, its tail waving over its head. As its pursuers approach, it rushes up a tree to sit on the topmost branch and crack nuts.
The panting horses arrive—some with their riders still in the saddle, though many, alas! have fallen by the wayside. Next come the hounds, at a long interval—poor Fido, poor Vic, poor Snap! you have done your best to keep up, but the horses have out-distanced you! The whipper-in immediately climbs the tree in which the little red-brown animal still peacefully cracks its nuts, its pretty tail curled well over its head. Its would-be captor carries a revolving wire cage, and, by sleight-of-hand movement, manages to get the quarry securely into it. Then he descends, places the cage in a cart and it is driven home.
The "mort" is sounded by four green velvet-coated huntsmen, with horns wound round their bodies; a beautiful brush presented to the lady who was first up at the "take"; and then the field slowly disperse. Tally Ho-Yoicks! all is over for the day.
[Pg 83]
Always be prepared to give the lead to a lady, even at some little personal inconvenience.
[Pg 84]
Having been cannoned and nearly brought down, to be asked if you are trying the American seat.
[Pg 86]
The Cast Shoe, or Late for the Meat.
[Pg 87]
First Rustic (to Second Ditto). "Oh, I say! Ain't he fond of his horse!"
[Pg 88]
M.F.H. "Hold hard! Hold hard, please!! Where are you going with that brute?"
Diana (plaintively). "I wish I knew!"
[Pg 89]
THE LAST DAY OF HUNTING (Stanzas for the First of April)Right day to bid a long farewell
To the field's gladsome glee;
To hang the crop upon its peg,
The saddle on its tree.
All Fools' the day, all Fools' the deed,
That hunting's end doth bring—
With all those stinking violets,
And humbug of the Spring!
Good-bye to pig-skin and to pink,
Good-bye to hound and horse!
The whimpering music sudden heard
From cover-copse and gorse;
The feathering stems, the sweeping ears,
The heads to scent laid low,
The find, the burst, the "Gone-away!"
The rattling "Tally-ho!"
My horses may eat off their heads,
My huntsman eat his heart;
My hounds may dream of kills and runs
In which they've borne their part,
Until the season's bore is done,
And Parliament set free,
And cub-hunting comes back again
To make a man of me!
[Pg 90]
Lady. "You're dropping your fish!"
Irish Fish Hawker (riding hard). "Och, bad luck to thim! Niver moind. Sure we're kapin' up wid the gentry!"
[Pg 91]
(Mr. Twentystun having a nip on his way to covert)
Small Boy. "Oh my, Billy, 'ere's a heighty-ton gun a chargin' of 'isself afore goin' into haction!"
[Pg 92]
Huntsman. "How is it you never have any foxes here now?"
Keeper (who has orders to shoot them.) "Pheasants have eat 'em all!"
The Advantage of EducationM.F.H. (who has had occasion to reprimand hard-riding Stranger.) "I'm afraid I used rather strong language to you just now."
Stranger. "Strong language? A mere twitter, sir. You should hear our Master!"
[Pg 93]
Irate Non-sporting Farmer. "Hi! you there! What the Duce do you mean by riding over my wheat!"
'Arry. "'Ere, I say! What are yer givin' us? Wheat! Why, it's only bloomin' mud!"
[Pg 94]
"Foot and Mouth" TroubleA valuable hunter, belonging to Mr. Durlacher, got its hind foot securely fixed in its mouth one day last week, and a veterinary surgeon had to be summoned to its assistance. This recalls the ancient Irish legend of the man who never opened his mouth without putting his foot into it. But that, of course, was a bull.
Decidedly NotNervous Visitor (pulling up at stiff-looking fence.) "Are you going to take this hedge, sir?"
Sportsman. "No. It can stop where it is, as far as I'm concerned."
UngratefulThe Pride of the Hunt (to Smith, who, for the last ten minutes, has been gallantly struggling with obstinate gate.) "Mr. Smith, if you really can't open that gate, perhaps you will kindly move out of the way, and allow me to jump it!"
[Pg 95]
Brown (helping lady out of water.) "'Pon my word, Miss Smith, you remind me exactly of What's-her-name rising from the What-you-call!"
[Pg 96]
M.F.H. (riding up to old Rustic, with the intention of asking him if he has seen the lost fox.) "How long have you been working here, master?"
Old Rustic (not seeing the point.) "Nigh upon sixty year, mister!"
[Pg 97]
Whip. "Wisdom! Get away there!! Wisdom!! Wisdom!!! Ugh!—you always were the biggest fool in the pack!"
[Pg 98]
Mrs. Brown (being helped out of a brook by the gallant Captain, who has also succeeded in catching her horse.) "Oh, Captain Robinson! thank you so much!"
Gallant, but somewhat flurried, Captain. "Not at all—don't mention it." (Wishing to add something excessively polite and appropriate.) "Only hope I may soon have another opportunity of doing the same again for you."
ReassuringCriticising friend (to nervous man on new horse.) "Oh! now I recollect that mare. Smashem bought her of Crashem last season, and she broke a collar-bone for each of them."
[Pg 99]
First Whip thanks him, and hums to himself, "When other tips, and t'other parts, Then he remembers me!"
[Pg 100]
Giles (indicating Sportsman on excitable horse, waiting his turn.) "Bless us all, Tumas, if that un beant a goin' to try it back'ards!"
[Pg 101]
Dismounted Huntsman (to his mount.) "Whoa, you old brute! To think I went and spared yer from the biler only last week! You hungrateful old 'idebound 'umbug!"
[Pg 102]
'INTS ON 'UNTING, BY 'ARRY(1)On Clothes.—"Why not employ local talent? Saves half the money, and no one can tell the difference."
[Pg 103]
(2) If the thong of your whip gets under your horse's tail, just try to pull it out!
[Pg 104]
(3) Don't buy a horse because he is described as being "Well known with the—— Hounds." It might be true.
[Pg 105](4) If at a meet your horse should get a bit out of hand, just run him up against some one.
[Pg 106]
(5) If opening a gate for the huntsman, don't fall into the middle of the pack!
[Pg 107]
(6) Sit well back at your fences!
[Pg 108]
(7) Look before you leap.
[Pg 109]
(8) If you lose your horse, just tell the huntsman to catch it for you.
[Pg 110]
ExcusableM.F.H. (justly irate, having himself come carefully round edge of seed-field.) "Blank it all, Rogerson, what's the good o' me trying to keep the field off seeds, and a fellow like you coming slap across 'em?"
Hard-Riding Farmer. "It's all right. They're my own! Ar've just come ower my neighbour's wheat, and ar couldn't for vary sham(e) miss my own seeads!"
Anxious to SellDealer (to Hunting Man, whose mount has NOT answered expectations.) "How much do you want for that nag o' yours, sir?"
Hunting Man. "Well, I'll take a hundred guineas."
Dealer. "Make it shillings."
H. M. (delighted.) "He's yours!"
[Pg 111]
Miss Scramble. "Now, Charles, give me one more long hair-pin, and I shall do."
[Pg 112]
CasualOwner of let-out hunters (to customer just returned from day's sport.) "Are you aware, sir, that ain't my 'orse?"
Sportsman. "Not yours! Then, by Jove, I did collar the wrong gee during that scrimmage at the brook!"
At our Opening MeetStranger from over the water. "I guess you've a mighty smart bunch of dogs there, m'lord!"
Noble but crusty M.F.H. "Then you guess wrong, sir. This is a pack of hounds!"
Must be Hungry"Wish you'd feed your horse before he comes out."
"Eh—why—hang it!—what do you mean?"
"He's always trying to eat my boots. He evidently thinks there's
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