Life — March 22, 1883 — page 5: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

the Derblunz's Fancy Ball), morosely : Philip Fogy, Jr.,(who has refused, after prolonged discussion, to get gaudy raiment and take his wife to I wish I HAD MARRIED A SENSIBLE WOMAN. His recently-acquired spouse (to whom the said ball is for the moment much more attractive than heaven) vindictively : SHE WOULDN'T HAVE HAD you !! ARUN WITH THE BLEECKER STREET HOUNDS. T 11 P.M. most of the company had already assembled at Mr. Harry Hill's, and the room was filled with the sport- ing fraternity. The neighboring hunts were well represented. Among the notables were Lord Anglo-Ville, Count Pilsner, hard- riding Capt. Fullhand of the qth (ward), Hon. Jas. Mace of Australia, and his Maori, the Malagassy Embassy, Percy Cold- deck, dashing Charley Blucchip, Jack Crosscounter, and a host of other devotees of the sport. Conversation was lively, mostly, of course, upon hunting. The reporter overheard Capt. Full- hand telling Lord Anglo-Ville of a ‘breather through the Bowery, with a kill in Tompkins Square,” Jack Crosscounter was vividly describing to one of the Embassy, a “rattling twent: minutes with the West Broadway Nippers,” and Percy Colddec! told how, in ‘‘ three half weeks, with the gth ward ‘Tarriers,’” he had “ruined as many Aacks without a scratch.” According to the time-honored custom— “ Every man his whiskey took, Which shivered in his skin,” it had begun to look as though a very severe chill (possibly ins’ blizzard) had struck the place, when Mr. Geo. Feather- wei Ant, the M. F. H., appeared sporting the pind, as did most of the club members, and looking every inch a driver, The pink of the B. S. H. consists of a scarlet ulster faced with green, and is, as you may imagine, a very becoming and striking costume. Immediately following the master came the huntsman, who an- nounced that the pack had arrived, The pact was found outside in charge of the whip, and consisted of a bulldog of the brindle Forthwith The master persuasion, answering to the name of ‘ Grip.” everyone sought his mount—prepared for the run. drove a full-blooded" Brewster” side-bar, and on ing that your reporter represented ‘* Lire,” very gave him the vacant seat by his side. On the report- er's expressing doubts about loading the vehicle so heavi- ly, Mr, Featherweight laughed’ at his fears, [t was “up to any weight,” he said, and he had often *‘ larked it over the stiffest country without springing a spoke.” There was other good stock in the field. Lord Anglo-Ville’s tooled an imported Stan- hope ; Percy Colddeck’s 75 Ib, Abbott-Downing showed evident breeding, and Count Pilsner’s thoroughbred brougham is well known to all frequenters of meets in this neighborhood. A fine domestic-bred express wagon carried the huntsman, whip, and dog, and the rest of the field were well mounted on (I mean in) half and quarter bred Aacks. The word was given, and off we went. At Mulberry street the pack was thrown off the wagon. The reporter thought it would Rave been just as well to have let it down easily, for it lit on its back on the sidewalk, and appear- ed dazed and annoyed for a moment, but the master said that it was absolutely neccessary to throw off your pack when beginning arun, No first-class hunt ever neglects to doit. This may be so, but the ‘‘ Lire" reporter does not want to be in the immedi- ate neighborhood (that is, on the street level) when the B.S. H. throw off their pack. We drew blanks in both the Mulberry and Mott street coverts, but the Elizabeth street gorse proved a find, for on turning the corner, a black and white streak darted from an alleyway, up which the pack had wandered, with Mr. Grip in its immediate rear, With the stirring view halloo, of “Sick ‘em, Grip,” the whole field pressed forward in the chase. ‘‘ There’s learn- kindly comicbooks.com