58 THE LIFE OF A FOX.

at a’ moment when his hounds were running
very hard, and going like Leicestershire,—he
being nearly twenty stone,—“I hope I shall not
see them any more till they have killed.” Not-
withstanding the system just described, as many
of my friends have fallen victims to this pack
as to any in this part of the country. Never-
theless here I shall remain for the present, and
not go away until I am fairly driven.

I now, my friends, conclude for the present
the history of my life, only omitting such im-
portant events as may happen to come out in
the course of your own stories; for I must now
call upon you to tell us what you have to say
of yourselves. |

But hold hard there. Who or what art thou,
half-bred thing, that durst be showing thy ill-
breeding with feigning to sleep, or with eating
rabbit, when thou shouldst have listened to the
words of thy betters? Cock-tail, speak.

“Call me Cock-tail, half-bred, ill-bred, mongrel
cur; but know that I claim kindred with your

noble selves.’