It was a newspaper of sorts. Prominent notices adjured the reader to
"Write to _John Fox_ about it." The leading article was headed

"AN APPEAL."

"Foxes of Britain!" it began; "opposed though we have always been to
revolutionary politics, a clear line is indicated to us out of the
throes of the Re-birth. The old feudal relations between Foxes and
Men have had their day. The England that has been the paradise of the
wealthy, of the pink-coated, of the doubly second-horsed, must become
that of the oppressed, the hunted, the hand-to-mouth liver. In a
word, we have had enough of Fox-Hounds; henceforth we will have
Hound-Foxes."

Then the policy was outlined. Foxes could not hunt hounds--no; but
they could lead them a dog's life. They had been in the past too
sporting; thought too little of their own safety, too much of the
pleasure of the Hunt and of the reputation of its country.

Henceforth the League of Hound-Foxes would dispense justice to the
oppressors. No more forty-minute bursts over the best line in the
country; no more grass and easy fences; no more favourable crossing
points at the Whissendine Brook; no more rhapsodies in _The Field_
over "a game and gallant fox."

A Hound-Fox would be game, but not gallant. He would carry with him
a large-scale specially-marked map, showing where bullfinches were
unstormable; where the only gaps harboured on the far side a slimy
ditch; where woods were rideless; where wire was unmarked; where
railways lured to destruction--over and through each and every point