"Is fox-hunting dangerous?" asks one of our daily papers. A fox informs us that it has its risks.
[Illustration: _Rough Rider_ (_to old Creeper, who will not let his horse jump_). "Now then, gov'nor, if you are quite sure you can't get under it, perhaps you'll let me 'ave a turn!"]
_Podson_ (_lately returned from abroad_). "Well, I hear you've been having a capital season, Thruster."
_Thruster._ "Oh, rippin'! Why, I've had both collar-bones broken, left wrist sprained, and haven't got a sound horse left in my string!"
_Master Jack_ (_son of M.F.H., much upset by hard weather_). "Go skating with you! Not if I know it. May be all very well for you women and those curate chaps--but we hunting men, by George!!!"]
_Fred_ (_a notorious funk_). "Bai Jove! Jack, I'm afraid I've lost my nerve this season!"
_Jack._ "Have you? Doosid sorry for the poor beggar who finds it!"
[Illustration: _Elderly Sportsman._ "I wonder they don't have that place stopped. Why, I remember running a fox to ground there twenty years ago! Don't you?"]
[Illustration: THEORY AND PRACTICE; OR, WHY THE ENGAGEMENT WAS BROKEN OFF
_Lady Di_ (_to Jack, whose vows of devotion have been interrupted by a fox being hollered away_). "Oh, Jack, my hair's coming down! Do stop and hold my horse. I won't be five minutes."]
_A Dream of Mr. Punch's Sporting Correspondent_
["Mr. Arthur Wilson, Master of the Holderness Hunt, has received an intimation from the War Office that, in consequence of the war with the Transvaal, ten of his horses will be required."--_Daily Paper._]
_Lady_ (_who has just jumped on fallen Sportsman_). "I'm awfully sorry! I hope we didn't hurt you?"
_Fallen Sportsman._ "Oh, I'm all right, thanks. But--er--do you mind leaving me my hat?"]
_Belated Hunting Man_ (_to Native_). "Can you kindly point out the way to the Fox and Cock Inn?"
_Native._ "Well, that's what we call the Barber's Arms."
_Native_ (_with a hoarse laugh_). "Well, ain't the Fox and Cock the same as the Brush and Comb?"
[_Vanishes into the gloaming, leaving the B. H. M. muttering those words which are not associated with benediction, while he wearily passes on his way._
For sportsmen, the old song long ago popular, entitled "_There's a Good Time Coming, Boys_," if sung by a M.F.H. with a bad cold, as thus: "_There's a Good Tibe Cubbing, Boys!_"