ake
friends of them, and I have lived in perfect contentment for months at a
stretch with no company but my terriers. A favourite terrier often goes
about with me now, and the other day Mr. Landlord said, with insinuating
softness, "We must have your pup entered for our coursing meeting." It
mattered little to me one way or the other, so I paid the entrance fee,
and forgot all about the engagement. Coursing with terriers is a very
popular "sport" in the south country, and the squat little white-and-tan
dogs are bred with all the care that used to be bestowed on fine strains
of greyhounds. I cannot quite see where the sport comes in, but many
men of all classes enjoy it, and I have no mind to find fault with a
remarkable institution which has taken fast root in England. All
coursing is cruel; a hare suffers the extremity of agony from the moment
when she hears the thud of the dogs' feet until she is whirled round and
shaken in those deadly jaws. I lay once amongst straggling furze while a
hare and two greyhounds rushed down towards me. Puss had travelled a
mile on a Suffolk marsh, and she was failing fast. As she neared me the
greyhounds made a violent effort, and the foremost one struck just
opposite my hiding-place. Never in my life have I seen such a picture of
agony; the poor little beast wrung herself sharp round with a
scream--such a scream!--and the dog only succeeded in snatching a
mouthful of fur. He lay down, and the hare hobbled into the cover. I
could see her tremble. The same sort of torture is inflicted when hares
are bundled out of an enclosure with the rapidity and precision of
machinery. There is a wild flurry, an agony of one minute or so, and all
is over.

The mystery of man's cruelty is inexplicable to me; I feel the mad
blood pouring hard when the quarry rushes away, and the snaky dogs dash
from the slips; no thought of pity enters my mind for a time because the
mysterious wild-man instinct possesses me, and so I suppose that the
primeval hunter is ignobly represented by the people who go to see
rabbit coursing. We have been refining and refining, and educating the
people for a good while; yet our popular sports seems to grow more and
more cruel. We do not bait bulls now, but we worry hares and rabbits by
the gross, we massacre scores of pretty pigeons--sweet little birds that
are slaughtered without a sign of fair play.

Decidedly the Briton likes the savour of blood to mingle with his
pleasures.