Hoof Beats 



for his legs, the hair grown long at the fet-locks, 

 they resembled a Cochin China's more than any- 

 thing else. 



Still, what did that matter, Fullerton persuaded 

 himself, appearances didn't count. Down there 

 horses weren't park hacks to be ridden in "Rotten 

 Row," but gentlemen's hunters, that could gallop 

 and jump to the tune of forty couples. What if 

 the Yorkshire Lad had jumped six feet two, at 

 the end of a lunging line ! Loose bars ! that knocked 

 down at the slightest touch of a horse's knees. 

 Poof! Hadn't the Marquis jumped four board 

 fences, one right after the other, only for a 

 mouthful of green grass he saw growing near the 

 crest of a hill? Those fences didn't knock down. 

 Almost any horse in the county, whether a jumper 

 or not, had learned, that over FuUerton's farm, 

 the fences were made of new timber and wired up 

 to stay, and that if one was so unfortunate as to 

 strike above the knee, it turned one over like a 

 clowTi in the circus, and it was a Godsend for both 

 horse and rider, when they fell, if it had rained the 

 night before, or the frost was out of the ground. 

 The Marquis had been in the field once when 

 the hounds had struck a line across there, and it 

 was evident then that every horse was saving 

 himself when he saw those fences ahead, and 



120 



