"
A Hound-Fox would be game, but not gallant. He would carry with him
a large-scale specially-marked map, showing where bullfinches were
unstormable; where the only gaps harboured on the far side a slimy
ditch; where woods were rideless; where wire was unmarked; where
railways lured to destruction--over and through each and every point
would the Hound-Fox entice the cursing Hunt.
As for the Hounds, they feared no obstacles, but they hated mockery.
_They_ should be led on to the premises of sausage factories; through
villages, to be greeted as brothers-in-the-chase by forty yelping
curs; into infant-schools (that old joke), where the delighted babes
would throw arms around their necks and call them "Doggie," until both
men and hounds would begin to question whether the game were worth the
candle.
Therefore let every eligible vulpine enroll himself to-day as a
Hound-Fox. They must be dog-foxes, rising three or over, of good
stamina, with plenty of scent, intelligent and preferably unmarried.
The League Secretary was ---- (here followed the name, earth and
covert of a well-known veteran).
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