56 



The Chase 



They are pointing to a dead flat surface of old 

 yellow grass with patches of rushes and ant-hills 

 interspersed. There would appear to be a mile or 

 more of plain without a fence ; but Mr. Sawyer 

 spies a tell-tale willow here and there, and wishes 

 in his heart that he was quite sure Hotspur could 

 jump water ! 



Presently the hounds disappear and emerge again, 

 throwing their tongues as they take to running, and 

 looking darker and less distinct than before. 



" Is there a ford, Charles ? " halloos Major Brush, 

 who has shaken to the front, and would fain 

 continue there without a wetting. 



" Never a one for miles ! " answers Charles with 

 inconceivable rapidity, catching his horse by the 

 head, and performing a running accompaniment 

 with his spurs. 



In a few seconds he is over with a considerable 

 effort, a certain flourish and scramble when they 

 land, showing there are very few inches to spare. 

 The ill-fated Major has no idea of refusing. His 

 horse, however, thinks differently ; so they com- 

 promise the matter by sliding in together and 

 climbing out separately — draggled, disgusted, and 

 bemired. 



"There is no mistake about it," thinks Mr. 

 Sawyer ; " I must jump or else go home ! " He 

 may take a liberty, he hopes, with a friend ; so 

 he puts the roan's head close behind the Honourable 

 Crasher, and, devoutedly trusting that gentleman 

 will get over, drives Hotspur resolutely at the 

 brook. 



Topsy-Turvy, wild with excitement, throws her 

 head in the air and takes off a stride too soon. 

 Consequently, she drops her hind-legs and rolls 

 into the opposite field. The roan, who jumps as 



