These words conjure up pictures of the great halls of country houses with logs blazing and sizzling on the hearth; a table large enough to allow a man who hates afternoon tea to sit and spread scones with butter and home-made jam; a singing kettle; piping hot toast; and home-made cakes, dogs lying warming themselves in blissful happiness, never even troubling to stir as well-known footsteps are heard outside, and members of the houseparty and other friends come in, one after the other, exhilarated but tired after a splendid run with some well-known pack, or a day with the guns.