and embellish the feast, like birds and flowers cut from carrots,
turnips, and beet-root; parsley fried _crisp_; cascades spun in sugar,
or mouldings in almond paste, at a pic-nic supper party.

We love a good motto, and one like Mr. Hood's speaks volumes:

"HUNTS ROASTED"--

Next comes an advertisement of the author's endeavour to record a yearly
revel (the Epping Hunt,) already fast hastening to decay. Mr. Hood is
_serious_, as the following epistle will show:--

"It was penned by an underling at the Wells, a person more accustomed to
riding than writing."

"Sir,--About the Hunt. In anser to your Innqueries, their as been a
great falling off laterally, so much so this year that there was nobody
allmost. We did a mear nothing provisionally, hardly a Bottle extra,
wich is a proof in Pint. In short our Hunt may be sad to be in the last
Stag of a Decline.

"I am, Sir,

"With respects from

"Your humble Servant,

"BARTHOLOMEW RUTT."

Then begins the tale.