§ 277 Scarcely a Lucrative Calling
A group of wealthy Southerners, Virginians and Carolinians mostly, were on a train returning from a meeting of the National Fox-Hunting Association. Naturally the talk dealt largely with the sport of which they were devotees. A lank Vermonter, who apparently had never done much traveling, was an interested auditor of the conversation.
Presently, when the company in the smoking-compartment had thinned out, he turned to one of the party who had stayed on. He wanted to know how many horses the Southerner kept for fox-hunting purposes and how large a pack of hounds he maintained and about how many foxes on an average he killed in the course of a season.
The Southerner told him. In silence for a minute or two the Vermonter mulled the disclosures over in his mind.
Then he said:
“Wall, with fodder fetchin’ such high prices, and with dog-meat for hounds a-costin’ what it must cost, and with fox pelts as cheap as they are in the open market, and takin’ one thing with another, I don’t see how you kin expect to clear much money out of this business in the course of a year.”