"What does that matter, if you get foxes?" continued the Master.
"But the fact is, gentlemen in a county like this always want to
have everything done for them, and never to do anything for
themselves. I'm sick of it, I know. Nobody is fonder of hunting a
country than I am, and I think I know what I'm about."
"That you do," said Fred Botsey, who, like most men, was always
ready to flatter the Master.
"And I don't care how hard I work. From the first of August till
the end of May I never have a day to myself, what with cubbing and
then the season, and entering the young hounds, and buying and
selling horses, by George I'm at it the whole year."
"A Master of Hounds looks for that, Captain," said the innkeeper.
"Looks for it! Yes; he must look for it. But I wouldn't mind that,
if I could get gentlemen to pull a little with me. I can't stand
being out of pocket as I have been, and so I must let them know. If
the country would get the kennels and the stables, and lay out a
few pounds so that horses and hounds and men could go into them, I
wouldn't mind having a shot for the house. It's killing work where
I am now, the other side of Rufford, you may say." Then he
stopped;--but no one would undertake to answer him. The meaning of
it was that Captain Glomax wanted 500 pounds a year more than he
received, and every one there knew that there was not 500 pounds a
year more to be got out of the country,--unless Lord Rufford would
put his hand into his pocket.
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