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336

THEN UP HE ROSE AND DOFF'D HIS CLOTHES."

"Anything more?" thinks I: "I must doff some of this, or I suppose I shall be taken for some overgrown monkey, escaped from the back of a dromedary led about for exhibition." After, therefore, to the great chagrin of the baron, putting aside the pink for a more promising occasion, we, accompanied by the big-headed animal with the stump, took our places in the fiacre; the Frenchman in high glee, anticipating, (as he assured me we should do,) faire grande chasse, I beginning to suspect myself of being the ass I was, in supposing it possible to get anything like hunting in the district of Bergues. Concluding still that something of the sort would be attempted, I made up my mind to be amused by the ridiculous, if I could not be gratified by anything better. "Journeying with this intent," on my part, the baron every ten minutes putting forth his head to hurry the driver, with as much sign of anxiety and importance as if he feared a fox would have broke and gone away over as clipping a country as England could produce, he all at once changed his note, and now screeched as furiously to him to stop, as if life or death depended on his instant compliEven before this could be accomplished, out bolted the baron, and after him the stump-tailed quadruped. Looking from the window, I saw the former going at top-speed, the latter following at the same pace; presently the greatest chasseur of the province came to a full stop; bang went one barrel, and, as I suppose, to make assurance doubly sure, bang went the other. Into the hedge rushed Stump; into the hedge rushed the baron, the hedge shaking to its very foundation, as if some mighty conflict was going on within its precincts. I concluded that

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WITH CRESSY'S EDWARD CAN COMPARE.' 337 nothing less than a wolf or some outlying deer had been found and shot. Presently out backed the baron, then out backed the pointer, the former waving his cap in triumph. The dog for the first time cocked his stump, and gambolled and yelped in token of his master's prowess. I got out, concluding I at least, if not the driver also, was beckoned to, to help bring up the quarry; but as the baron advanced he flourished in his left hand, not, of course, a wolf or deer, but a FULL-GROWN THRUSH. How did he now expatiate on the unerringness of the shot! how did he describe and dilate on the nearness of the escape of the bird! how many "petits coquins" did he call his favourite, who had, it seemed, disputed the possession of the prize: and when in the fiacre again, what a laying down the bird there was! what caution to the dog there was not to ruffle a feather! what "fi donc's!" there were if he attempted to do so; what caresses when he did not! "Well," soliloquised I, "the true philosophy of life is to be happy when we can; and as substantial occasions for being so occur but rarely in this life, perhaps he who is made happy by trifles acts the wisest part. The field of Cressy might entitle an English prince to feel himself a hero and a conqueror; but why should a French baron slaughter thousands, when he feels himself as great through the mere instrumentality of a thrush and a stump-tailed pointer?"

I have been led into this little digression from my tale by my own reflection, as the baron was from his progression by the thrush; thus, on the score of excuse, we stand on about equal terms. We will now get on again; and get we did to the baron's loge de chasse, or, par excellence, chateau. Here we got out:

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nor were my anticipations of what was to come at all raised by the general appearance of the place. The baron, however, jumping out, began rubbing his hands in high glee; while the pointer, in the exuberance of his joy, scoured round the yard, driving every fowl, duck, turkey, goose, and capon in most “admired disorder." A man in a blue frock and red cap, who gloried in the name of François, welcomed the baron; while Formose, in the person of a very illlooking boy, made his obedience to his master, at the same time energetically cutting legumes for the bouillon: the former I found enacted the parts of piquer, garde chasse, and general homme d'affaires to the baron; while the cupid Formose was valet d'ecurie, and in short, valet de any-and-everything. So soon as our cocher and François had sufficiently kissed each other, I inquired of the latter for my man and nag. My inquiry for my man was answered by the baron, saying, had he thought I wished my man to be here he should have come with us; but the look of astonishment that followed my expecting or wanting my horse could only have been equalled had I asked for the Cham of Tartary, the great mammoth, or the young lady who cut watch-papers with her toes. Was I going "en voyage?" did I intend to "promener à cheval?" Holding up my leg, I asked if he thought I had put on spurs to assist me in walking. This brought out a full explanation: so finding hunting to be out of the question, I made up my mind to make the best of it; in reward of which philosophic resolve, up came my man and horse, the former looking not quite so amiable as a bear in a bad humour. His delay had been occasioned in the following manner: I had told him over night that

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339 the MEET Would be at or near the chateau. He had overtaken two Frenchmen on the road, with their dogs and guns: so, Englishman-like, he concluded that as they appeared like sportsmen, they would certainly know where the MEET was; and having heard the baron and I use the word chasse, he concluded it meant that; so on encountering the Frenchmen he mustered French enough to use the word chasse, intimating by pointing forwards that he wanted to get there. "Oui, mon ami-yes," cried one of the shooters, pointing to a cover at some distance. Tom thought he was all right. The Frenchman, flattered by the idea that he was anxious to see them shoot, opened the barrières for him, which for once in his life made Tom civil to and think well of a Frenchman. Arrived at the cover on a hill, Tom looked round, but saw neither hound nor, as he expected, red coats, nor any coats coming up. He now saw something was wrong, and, I have no doubt, bestowing some of those choice blessings on the heads of the shooters that he always so liberally bestowed on every Frenchman he met with, whether deservedly or not, he cantered back to the chateau, ready charged, as I perceived, for a fresh volley. To put him on better terms with himself and the world, I took him into the house, trusting to the effects of a glass or two of Cognac, the homo in blue body and red cap holding my nag the while; in return for which, Mr. Tom, on mounting his horse, shook his fist in the man's face, muttering something like "sarving him out;" knowing that the idea was very likely to be followed by practical explanation, I hurried him off. The man of blue and red taking, as all Frenchmen do, every

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thing as a compliment that does not amount to undisputable insult, politely lifted the red cap on Tom's riding off; in return for which courtesy Tom made a significant gesture, accompanied by an exposure well known in England, and alluding of course to the man and his master, I heard him d—n them for two French-barons was not certainly the term he used, no matter what it was. I saw him safely on the road back to Dunkirk.

I now returned to the house, from whence I was introduced to the stud, consisting of two nondescript horses and a beast, the pet of the baron, who was shortly expected to favour her master with a progeny begat God knows how, where, or when. From this I was shown the chiens de chasse, including two old English spaniels, and a pointer that the baron brought indisputable proof forward of being own brother to him of the stump.

My good stars now prevailed. It came on to rain in torrents, and the baron having been told by Formose that the hare he had come to shoot had not been seen the preceding day, it was put to me, with many apologies, whether a more propitious day would not be preferable pour la chasse. I most energetically avowed it would. The fiacre was brought out, and we started homewards. Overtaking Tom on the road, he touched his hat: this I knew was for me; but a certain repetition of the expletive used on quitting the chateau in the plural, but now in the singular number, I fear was intended for the baron, who, I must say, gave me a most excellent dinner, and among many good things, but as a bonne bouche-or joke, I know not which—on a handsome silver dish was served up the THRUSH.

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