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(an extract from the Charlestown Enterprise of July 21, 1888, written by Mr. Timothy T. Sawyer.)

In the middle of October, the time of the first frosts, early in the morning, when all nature was smiling to usher in the queen of morn, the huntsman, Colonel Jaques, and his friends began to wind the mellow horn, and there are still many residents of Charlestown who can remember when they were awakened by this stirring music, and saw the colonel and his party in hunter's garb, followed by the hounds in pairs, chained together, and galloping up Main street for the fox hunt,—not the pursuit of some little creature provided for the purpose, to be let loose at the proper time, and to be hunted down by the dogs, but the starting up of wild animals on their own ground, where the foxes had holes and hiding places, and an even chance of escape; where perhaps they, too, were having their little hunt about the barn-yards or hen-coops of the region. The jollification over the captured brush (fox tail), the dinner at the Black Horse Tavern in Woburn, and the winding up at night ended the busy day.

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