“Very frequently,” replied my companion. “Head and hands will beat heels all the world over.”
At this moment the Squire came trotting briskly up on his hack; and as he rode through the throng, hats were lifted and salutations exchanged. Our master, be it remembered, although an old English gentleman, was not a gentleman of the old school. He neither swore the roundest oaths, nor horsewhipped those whom he dared or could afford to pay; he boasted not of the number of bottles it took to make him oblivious of sublunary matters, or laughed only at the practical joke and coarsest jest. His object was not to be the oracle of grooms and stable-boys, or the subject of discussion in the village tap-room. With an affable bearing, he possessed a kind and generous disposition, and a heart more ready to befriend the deserving and destitute than to check the imposter and depraved. His house was one wherein hospitality reigned the seasons round; and it mattered not who were the guests, a hearty welcome awaited each and all. In the pursuit, too, of his favourite sport, he never permitted an injury to pass unrecompensed, although careful that no false application should succeed. Not a gate nor a bar was broken, a head of poultry lost suspiciously, or the most trifling damage done, but what, instantly and liberally, amends were made. Sternly discountenancing all unfair riding over wheat, young grass, and layers, he was regarded by the farmers as a friend to their interests; and so far from objecting to a fixture in their neighbourhood, they were glad when it came to their turn. By proper and simple judicious means the end is always attainable; and if those masters of hounds who complain of a dearth of foxes, and opposition to their sport, would but take a memorandum out of the note-book of “our Squire,” many a blank day might be rendered as fruitful as the vine “clustering with a thousand rings.”
“HEAD AND HANDS WILL BEAT HEELS.”
CHAPTER V.
“For easy the lesson of the youthful train
When instinct prompts, and when example guides.”
“I hope I’m to my time,” said the Squire, pulling out his watch. “Yes,” continued he, glancing at the dial, “to a minute.”