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which, after hearing different opinions, he at last gave the direction of his pursuit to fortune, and struck directly into the Worcester road.

In this road he proceeded about two miles, when he began to bemoan himself most bitterly, frequently crying out, What pity is it! Sure never was so unlucky a dog as myself! And then burst forth a volley of oaths and execrations.

The parson attempted to administer comfort to him on this occasion. Sorrow not, sir,' says he, like those without hope. Howbeit we have not yet been able to overtake young madam, we may account it some good fortune, that we have hitherto traced her course aright. Peradventure she will soon be fatigated with her journey, and will tarry in some inn, in order to renovate her corporea! functions; and in that case, in all moral certainty, you will very briefly be compos voti.'

Pugh! Dn the slut,' answered the 'squire, 'I am lamenting the loss of so fine a morning for hunting. It is confounded hard to lose one of the best scenting days, in all appearance, which hath been this season, and especially after so long a frost.'

Whether fortune, who now and then shows some compassion in her wantonest tricks, might not take pity of the 'squire; and, as she had determined not to let him overtake his daughter, might not resolve to make him aniends some other way, I will not assert; but he had hardly uttered the words just before commemorated, and two or three oaths at their heels, when a pack of hounds began to open their melodious throats at a small distance from them, which the 'squire's horse and his rider both perceiving, both immediately pricked up their ears, and the 'squire crying, She's gone, she's gone! Damn me, if she is not gone!' instantly clapped spurs to the beast, who little needed it, having indeed the same inclination with his master and now the whole company, crossing into a corn-field,

tode directly towards the hounds, with much hallooing and whooping, while the poor parson, blessing himself, brought up the rear.

Thus fable reports, that the fair Grimalkin, whom Venus, at the desire of a passionate lover, converted from a cat into a fine woman, no sooner perceived a mouse, than mindful of her former sport, and still retaining her pristine nature, she leaped from the bed of her husband to pursue the little animal.

What are we to understand by this? Not that the bride was displeased with the embraces of her amorous bridegroom: for though some have remarked that cats are subject to ingratitude; yet women and cats too will be pleased and purr on certain occasions. The truth is, as the sagacious. Sir Roger L'Estrange observes, in his deep reflec tions, that, if we shut nature out at the door, she will come in at the window; and that puss, though a madam, will be a mouser still.' In the same manner we are not to arraign the 'squire of any want of love for his daughter; for in reality he had a great deal: we are only to consider that he was a 'squire and a sportsman, and then we may apply the fable to him, and the judicious reflections likewise.

The hounds ran very hard, as it is called, and the 'squire pursued over hedge and ditch, with all his usual vociferation and alacrity, and with all his usual pleasure; nor did the thoughts of Sophia ever once intrude themselves to allay the satisfaction he enjoyed in the chase, and which, he said, was one of the finest he ever saw, and which he swore was. very well worth going fifty miles for. As the 'squire forgot his daughter, the servants, we may easily believe, forgot their mistress; and the parson, after having expressed much astonishment, in Latin, to himself, at length likewise abandoned all farther thoughts of the young lady, and jogging on at a distance behind, began to meditate a portion of doctrine for the ensuing Sunday.

The 'squire who owned the hounds was highly

pleased with the arrival of his brother 'squire and sportsman; for all men approve merit in their own way; and no man was more expert in the field than Mr. Western, nor did any other better know how to encourage the dogs with his voice, and to animate the hunt with his holla.

Sportsmen, in the warmth of a chase, are too much engaged to attend to any manner of cere mony, nay, even to the offices of humanity; for if any of them meet with an accident by tumbling into a ditch, or into a river, the rest pass on regard. less, and generally leave him to his fate: during this time, therefore, the two 'squires, though often close to each other, interchanged not a single word. The master of the hunt, however, often saw and approved the great judgement of the stranger in drawing the dogs when they were at a fault, and hence conceived a very high opinion of his understanding, as the number of his attendants inspired no small reverence to his quality. As soon, therefore, as the sport was ended, by the death of the little animal which had occasioned it, the two 'squires met, and in all 'squire-like greeting, saluted each other.

The conversation was entertaining enough, and what we may perhaps relate in an appendix, or on some other occasion; but as it nowise concerns this history, we cannot prevail on ourselves to give it a place here. It concluded with a second chase, and that with an invitation to dinner. This being ac cepted, was followed by a hearty bout of drinking, which ended in as hearty a nap on the part of 'Squire Western.

Our 'squire was by no means a match either for his host, or for Parson Supple, at his cups that even. ing; for which the violent fatigue of mind as well as body that he had undergone, may very well account, without the least derogation from his honour. He was, indeed, according to the vulgar, phrase, whistle-drunk; for before he had swallowed

the third bottle, he became so entirely overpower. ed, that though he was not carried off to bed till long after, the parson considered him as absent; and having acquainted the other, 'squire with alt relating to Sophia, he obtained his promise of se conding those arguments which he intended to urge the next morning for Mr. Western's return.

No sooner, therefore, had the good 'squire shaken off his evening, and began to call for his morning<< draught, and to summon his horses in order to renew his pursuit, than Mr. Supple began his dissuasives, which the host so strongly seconded, that they at length prevailed, and Mr. Western agreed to return home; being principally moved by one argument, viz. That he knew not which way to go, and might probably be riding farther from his daughter instead of towards her. He then took leave of his brother sportsman, and expressing great joy that the frost was broken (which might perhaps be no small motive to his hastening home), set for. wards, or rather backwards, for Somersetshire; but not before he had first dispatched part of his retinue in quest of his daughter, after whom he likewise sent a volley of the most bitter execrations which he could invent.

CHAP. III.

AT length we are once more come to our hero;

and, to say truth, we have been obliged to part with him so long, that, considering the condition in which we left him, I apprehend many of our readers have concluded we intended to abandon him for ever; he being at present in that situation in which prudent people usually desist from inquiring any farther after their friends, lest they

should be shocked by hearing such friends had hanged themselves.

But, in reality, if we have not all the virtues, I will boldly say, neither have we all the vices of a prudent character, and though it is not easy to conceive circumstances much more miserable than those of poor Jones at present, we shall retura to him, and attend upon him with the same diligence as if he was wantoning in the brightest beams of fortune.

Mr. Jones, then, and his companion Partridge, left the inn a few minutes after the departure of 'Squire Western, and pursued the same road on foot, for the hostler told them that no horses were by any means to be at that time procured at Upton. On they marched with heavy hearts; for though their disquiet proceeded from very different reasons, yet displeased they were both; and if Jones sighed bitterly, Partridge grunted altogether as sadly at every step.

When they came to the cross-roads where the 'squire had stopped to take counsel, Jones stopped likewise, and, turning to Partridge, asked his opinion which track they should pursue. should pursue. Ah, sir!' answered Partridge, I wish your honour would follow my advice. Why should I not?" replied Jones; for it is now indifferent to me whither I go, or what becomes of me. My advice, then,' said Partridge, 'is, that you immediately face about and return home; for who, that hath such a home. to return to as your honour, would travel thus about the country like a vagabond? I ask pardon, sed vox ea sola reperta est.'

Alas!' cries Joues, I have no home to return to but if my friend, my father, would receive me, could I bear the country from which Sophia is flown-Cruel Sophia! Cruel! No. Let me blame myself. No, let me blame thee. D.-nation seize thee, fool, blockhead! thou hast undone me, and

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