furniture there was, had evidently been selected for use and endurance. The square table in the centre was of oak; and the frame-work of half a dozen round-backed chairs, with elbows and black horse-hair seats, was of walnut tree. Small as was the room, the faded green-and-yellow carpet was smaller still, and uncovered portions of the cleanly-washed diamond-patterned flags appeared all round. A hand-bell, a bunch of clay pipes, and several tobacco boxes, occupied the shelf above the fireplace, and the room was lighted by a glass door that opened into a slip of a flower garden, railed in from the meadow beyond. Behind the house was the farm-yard, well stocked with pigs and poultry, and a fourstalled stable, barn, cow-house, dove-cot, and other offices formed, with the dwelling-house, three sides of a square, which walls and whale jawbone gates on the fourth side completed. Here Michael lived a life of honest, contented simplicity,-rising by day-break, dining at twelve, supping at six, and going to bed at dusk. He drank strong homebrewed ale, and had always a pot and a pipe for a friend.

The vale of Sheepwash, is, as its name would imply, a fertile grazing district in the western part of the county of Kent, of seven or eight miles in length and five or six in breadth, thrown in, as if it were by a frolic of nature, among the poor and perishing soil that forms the superstratum of the greater part of the land around. The north of the vale, at the time of which we are speaking, was bounded by a chain of almost interminable woodlands backed by a lofty range of hills; the south gradually opening away upon the chalky downs that extend to the coast, while the eastern and western boundaries are strongly marked by swelling hills of flints and chalk-stone, and large tracts of hazel copse and hoppole grounds.

With such strong holds for foxes, it will be readily supposed that the farmers of the vale had frequent occasions to complain of the incursions of sly reynard into their folds in the lambing season; and in old Hardey's time, there was a sort of union hunt kept up for the purpose of frightening, and killing, if they could, these troublesome invaders. In those pursuits Michael was ever foremost. It was he who tracked the villain to his earth in the snow, and slept under the hay-stack in the summer to watch his prowlings for his prey; indeed so earnestly did he devote himself to the pursuit, that at last the nature of the animal appeared almost to have entered into his composition, and he could imitate the barking of a fox with such accuracy as to draw them to the very spot. From his boyhood he had been famous for his pursuit of wild animals ; no lad could vie with him in ferretting rabbits, finding badgers or martincats, or in hunting them down after they were on foot.

When Michael, on the death of his father, found himself quietly installed in his snug cottage in the vale, without wife or child to interfere

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with the wayward humour of his fancy, he bethought him of indulging more liberally in his long cherished predilection for the chase, and accordingly he availed himself of the first opportunity that he met his brethren of the vale to sound them on the subject. This occurred at the annual lamb and wool fair, then held in the month of August, at the sign of the Wool-pack, in the snug little village of Risborough, now a town of some importance. The Wool-pack (for it is still in existence) is one of those snug little hostleries peculiar to the south of England, partaking at once of the cottage ornée and the inn. Over the wooden front, jessamine, ivy, and woodbine twist about in wild luxuriance, as also about the portico formed of branches of oak, nailed in rustic trellisses. It is only one story high and garret windows peer from the centre of the heath-thatched roof. To the right of the door is the kitchen, and on the left the company parlour. The latter is a very old room, with a large low fire-place placed quite back in the hearth, occupying almost the entire end of the room, and capable of throwing warmth round an extensive circle. The high mantel-piece or ledge still supports a range of old-fashioned long-stalked glasses, and the curiously carved old black oak tables and chairs have acquired a perfect polish from use. The floor too, which is made of a composition and is kept well sanded over, exhibits divers marks of antiquity.

In this little snuggery, from time immemorial, the farmers of the vale of Sheepwash had been in the habit of assembling every year, the largest proprietor occupying the seat of honour on the right of the fire nearest the door. Old Hardey had long enjoyed this distinction, and on his decease his son was voted to it by acclamation, though other farmers of greater extent had risen up since the time that old Hardey was elected. Here, then, as Michael sat stirring about a glass of hot gin-and-water, the favourite beverage of the farmers of the vale, he broached the subject of foxes and hunting; he was not a man of many words, but always spoke to the point. They all, he said, kept a nag a-piece to ride to market, and one a little bit better would eat no more corn. According to the present system with the four couple and a half of hounds in the vale they merely frightened the foxes, for unless they burst them in the open there was no chance of killing them in cover. Now if they would all join, and he thought there would be fourteen or fifteen of them, and keep a couple of hounds a-piece, he would find a horse for a lad to ride to collect them and hunt them himself.

Michael was a popular man even then, but a farmer is a farmer all the world over and very difficult of persuasion. Old Morgan Hains spoke first: The four couple and a holf of hoounds they had had served his father, and he thought they would serve him," and that was all he said. James Fairlamb, whose farm adjoined Michael's, and who knew

and appreciated his keenness, was very willing to join, but would like to have the hounds kennelled in winter. Peter Jewitt thought "a pack of hounds wod do as much harm and moir than the foxes, for the pooppies wod be conti-nu-allie a worrying of the lambs. Besides, the horsemen would break the hurdles and damage the hedges." Joseph Pinchwell, a lean miserable-looking old farmer, whose penurious habits had procured for him the flattering appellation of "Starve-beggar," was against hounds and hunts of every description. This miserable old man lived at the southern extremity of the vale, just where the flat grazing grounds open upon the undulating downs, and though more injured by the foxes than any of his neighbours higher up, in consequence of the numerous patches of gorse scattered about the hills, he still adhered to what has been well denominated the "penny-wise and pound-foolish system." He had a fine tract of ground which, had ordinary justice been done to it, would have been as productive and valuable as any of his neighbours, but he never could be induced to lay out a single farthing that did not appear likely to yield an instant return, and his hedges were dying from want of cutting and laying, the ditches were choked up, and there was not a gate upon the farm that would open or shut as it ought.

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Starve-beggar" was the beau ideal of a miser. He had been of the middle stature, but his person was bent prematurely and drawn to a curve. Long uncombed grey hairs hung about his furrowed temples and fell in ample tresses upon his broad coat-collar. His face was long and sharp, with at times an air of pensive quiet that lighted up the instant money matters were mentioned, and imparted a painful keenness to small, but excessively piercing grey eyes, surmounted by dark and bushy brows. His nose was of the perfect Roman order, to which a drop was continually hanging, and his mouth was pursed up as though he were a determined economist of his words. He wore a napless threecornered hat; a single-breasted broad-collared drab coat, with very large curiously engraved silver buttons; a scarlet waistcoat with large pockets and flaps; and drab velveteen breeches without braces; and both summer and winter broad-ribbed white-cotton stockings, with highheeled shoes and large silver buckles. He was the most unpopular man in the vale, for he never either invited a friend into his house, or joined in the convivialities of the Wool-pack if he could get a cheaper dinner elsewhere, and he invariably set his face against every project that savoured of improvement. To expect a man like him—who could hardly find in his heart to keep himself to keep a couple of hounds was quite out of the question, and as soon as he began to speak all parties antici→ pated his answer, which was a negative of the most decided nature.