174 MEMORIES OF THE SHIRES 



always consider to be very nearly, if not quite, the 

 best I have ever seen. When on Monday, the 9th, 

 a brace of foxes were killed in the morning, and in 

 the evening hounds ran from the Curate's to the 

 main earths in Welby Osierbeds, we thought an 

 extraordinary season had received its finishing 

 touch. It was a backward spring, the turf was 

 cool and moist, but had not started to grow, so 

 that little harm was done. 



Many of the regular Meltonians had left ; but 

 the master was desperately keen and granted us 

 one more day. The meet was at Keyham, and 

 several Pytchley men turned up to swell the 

 throng. 



By some happy inspiration the master decided 

 to draw John o' Gaunt — there the run began and 

 there it ended. The occupier of the adjoining 

 lands, and who also looked after the covert, told me 

 the fox had lain nearly the whole winter in an 

 adjoining field, and had therefore escaped being 

 hunted. It happened to be a small arable field, 

 and the spring cultivation had driven him to the 

 covert. He was an exceptionally light colour and 

 was probably a seven- or eight-year-old fox ; but 

 could hardly have been much older or he would 

 never have stood the strain of that run. He was 

 the stoutest fox that I have ever ridden after in the 

 whole of my hunting experience. 



I never enjoyed a run more, and was never 

 better carried. The old horse I was riding was a 

 bad refuser when I first had him ; but though he 

 would occasionally revert to old habits in a slow 

 hunt, he was very good when near hounds in a fast 

 gallop. 



