LORD MANNERS 83 



a cutting from my Field article of the first twenty 

 minutes : 



" Belvoir in luck again ! Wednesday was a 

 good day's sport, but Saturday was better. Fifty 

 merry minutes in the vale, a lovely country and a 

 rattling scent. The maddening music, as it rose 

 and fell from the throats of the descendants of 

 Rockwood, Fallible, & Co., is still ringing in my ears, 

 and I hasten to jot down first impressions ere the 

 blood cools. 



" Imagine yourself, reader, perched on the hill 

 that commands the cover known as Holwell 

 Mouth, your luncheon consumed, your second horse 

 mounted, and you, ' full of beans and benevolence ' 

 for the world at large. A single hound gives the 

 note that proclaims a find, followed very soon by a 

 chorus from the pack. One turn round the cover, 

 and the fox breaks away in view ; hounds are out 

 on his line in a twinkling, and dashing up the steep 

 hillside. 



" Now then, reader, if you wish to see the fun 

 you must hustle through the first gate or two and 

 gallop your hardest. Check not your steed as you 

 reach Clawson Thorns, for the pack touch not the 

 cover, but are racing like distraction up the narrow 

 ride and out beyond. A short turn on the hill, 

 and then down we go into the vale. The village of 

 Long Clawson is in front, but a bend to the right 

 leaves it a quarter of a mile on our left. The vale 

 par excellence is now before us ; good sound grass, 

 bounded by fair leapable fences that may be taken 

 anywhere and everywhere. The pack are ' streak- 

 ing it ' across the level like pigeons, and two hundred 

 horsemen are thundering in their wake. Already 



