Hoof Beats 



ny nail, while I was as soft and flabby as could be 

 after years of desk work and quick lunches. 



Rawdon wrote me that the hunting was fine 

 this fall; and as he had not seen me for a year, he 

 wished that I would come up some Friday, spend 

 Saturday and Sunday, and go out with the Pick- 

 erel Hounds. Why they were called Pickerel 

 Hounds no one knows, not even Rawdon, who is 

 the moving spirit in the county; but Pickerel 

 Hounds, I assure you, can run as fast and give 

 as much tongue as any other, so that if they know 

 they are called Pickerel it does not seem to depress 

 them in the least. 



I had not been very well of late, and so Raw- 

 don's invitation seemed the very thing, and I went, 

 Priscilla, that's my wife, and Bill, that's my eldest, 

 he's six, and little Marjory, all kissed me; and 

 Priscilla looked so worried and kept saying so often 

 "Do be careful, John," that the children, taking 

 the cue from her, lisped "Poor Daddy" until I felt 

 half dead already, and for a moment thought of 

 telegraphing Rawdon "Too sick to come; writing," 

 but put the thought away as unworthy of me. 



It was late and quite dark when I reached Den- 

 von, and the little station seemed to threaten me 

 gloomily. But as I stepped off the train Rawdon 

 rushed forward and in a moment was cracking my 

 knuckles together in his great hand, in that enthu- 

 SO 



