"
"What do you say to New York, Mr. Gotobed?"
"There certainly are a couple of hundred fools in New York, who,
having more money than brains, amuse themselves by imitating
European follies. But you won't find that through the country, Mr.
Morton. You won't find a hundred dogs at an American planter's
house when ten or twelve would do as well."
"Hunting is not one of your amusements."
"Yes it is. I've been a hunter myself. I've had nothing to eat but
what I killed for a month together. That's more than any of your
hunters can say. A hundred dogs to kill one fox!"
"Not all at the same time, Mr. Gotobed."
"And you have got none now?"
"I don't hunt myself."
"And does nobody hunt the foxes about here at present?" Then Morton
explained that on the Saturday following the U.R.U. hounds, under
the mastership of that celebrated sportsman Captain Glomax, would
meet at eleven o'clock exactly at the spot on which they were then
standing, and that if Mr. Gotobed would walk out after breakfast he
should see the whole paraphernalia, including about half a hundred
"dogs," and perhaps a couple of hundred men on horseback. "I shall
be delighted to see any institution of this great country," said
Mr. Gotobed, "however much opposed it may be to my opinion either
of utility or rational recreation.
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