Digital primer

Sergeant Bluff and Sergeant Huff rustle and
wrangle in every court, while Mr. Meeke and Mr. Sneeke enjoy their frights
on the forensic arenas of their respective towns, on behalf of simple
neighbours, who look upon them as thorough Solomons. So with hunts. Certain
men who seem to have been sent into the world for the express purpose of
hunting, arrive at every meet, far and near, with a punctuality that is
truly surprising, and rarely associated with pleasure.
If you listen to their conversation, it is generally a dissertation on the
previous day's sport, with inquiries as to the nearest way to cover the
next. Sometimes it is seasoned with censure of some other pack they have
been seeing. These men are mounted and appointed in a manner that shows
what a perfect profession hunting is with them. Of course, they come
cantering to cover, lest any one should suppose they ride their horses on.
The 'Cross-roads' was like two hunts or two circuits joining, for it
generally drew the picked men from each, to say nothing of outriggers and
chance customers.


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