about three
acres in extent, lying on either side of the little Hollyburn Brook, one of
the tiny streams that in angry times helped to swell the Swill into a
river.

'Dim all these foot people!' exclaimed Mr. Bragg, in well-feigned disgust,
as he came in view, and found all the Swillingford snobs, all the tinkers
and tailors, and cobblers and poachers, and sheep-stealers, all the
scowling, rotten-fustianed, baggy-pocketed scamps of the country ranged
round the cover, some with dogs, some with guns, some with snares, and all
with sticks or staffs. 'Well, I'm dimmed if ever I seed sich a--' The rest
of the speech being lost amidst the exclamations of: 'Ah! the hunds! the
hunds! hoop! tally-o the hunds!' and a general rush of the ruffians to meet
them.

[Illustration: CAPTAIN GUANO CAN'T GET HIS STIRRUPS THE RIGHT LENGTH]

Captain Guano, who had now come up, joined in the denunciation, inwardly
congratulating himself on the probability that the first cover, at least,
would be drawn blank. Tom Washball, who was riding a very troublesome
tail-foremost grey, also censured the proceeding.

And Mr. Puffington, still an 'am_aa_izin' instance of a pop'lar man,'
exclaimed, as he rode among them, 'Ah! my good fellows, I'd rather you'd
come up and had some ale than disturbed the cover'; a hint that the wily
ones immediately took, rushing up to the house, and availing themselves of
the absence of the butler, who had followed the hounds, to take a couple of
dozen of his best fiddle-handled forks while the footman was drawing them
the ale.

The whips being duly signalled by Bragg to their points--Brick to the north
corner, Swipes to the south--and the field being at length drawn up to his
liking, Mr. Bragg looked at Mr. Puffington for his signal (the only piece
of interference he allowed him); at a nod Mr. Bragg gave a wave of his cap,
and the pack dashed into cover with a cry.

'Yo-o-icks--wind him! Yo-o-icks--pash him up!' cheered Bragg, standing
erect in his stirrups, eyeing the hounds spreading and sniffing about, now
this way, now that--now pushing through a thicket, now threading and
smelling along a meuse. 'Yo-o-icks--wind him! Yo-o-icks--pash him up!'
repeated he, cracking his whip, and moving slowly on. He then varied the
entertainment by whistling, in a sharp, shrill key, something like the
chirp of a sparrow-hawk.

Thus the hounds rummaged and scrimmaged for some minutes.

'No fox here,' observed Captain Guano, bri