About forty years ago,I was tuning a piano in the sitting room of a private country club on Philadelphia's posh "Main Line" when I heard the distinct sound of a pack of hounds. It was the middle of summer, much too hot for fox hunting. I went to the window and observed a jack rabbit being chased by a large pack of beagle dogs, who were being pursued by about a dozen people on foot wearing clothing similar to that which is worn for fox hunting, but, green in color, rather than red. I recalled seeing something similar when, as a youngster, my grandparents took me to Wales to visit some of our relatives. I recalled the activity was called beagleing. A rabbit is not as fast as a fox, and a beagle is not as fast as a fox hound, so, you can run on foot behind the pack. Some time later the beagle chasers came in for afternoon tea and an elderly gent plopped himself in a chair next to the piano. He was gasping for breath as the sweat rolled down his face and neck and disappeared into the collar of his heavy woolen jacket. When he had regained his composure I spoke, "Pardon me sir, I understand the sport of beagleing, but, not the clothing. Since it's summer, why not just wear tennis outfits? It would be so much cooler." He glared at me in disbelief, sizing me up for the peasant that I am, and stated in a disparaging tone of voice, "After all, young man, one owes it to the hounds." Thereafter, if any of our dogs needed some expensive pet accessory, or, if we were handed a large veterinary bill, I would turn to my wife and say, "well my dear, one owes it to the hounds."
