THE 'CAT AND CUSTARD-POT' DAY 



cheers Jorrocks, as the sage feathers and scuttles up 

 the furrow. ' Yo-o dote ! ' continued Mr. Jorrocks, 

 cheering the rest on adding as he looks at them 

 scoring to cry, 'wot a petty it is we can't put 

 new legs to old noses!' The spurt, however, is 

 of short duration, for the ground gets worse as it 

 rises higher, until the tenderest-nosed hound can 



O " 



hardly own the scent. A heavy cloud too oppresses 

 the atmosphere. Jorrocks sees if he doesn't look 

 sharp he'll very soon be run out of scent, so 

 getting hold of his hounds, he makes a rapid 

 speculation in his mind as to which way he would 

 go if he were the fox, and having decided that 

 point, he loses no time in getting the pack to 

 the place. Jorrocks is right ! Ravager's unerring 

 nose proclaims the varmint across the green head- 

 land, and the next field being a clover ley, with a 

 handy gate in, which indeed somewhat influenced 

 Jorrocks in his cast, the hounds again settle to 

 the scent, with Jorrocks rolling joyfully after them, 

 declaring he'd be the best 'untsman under the 

 sun if it warn't for the confounded lips. Away 

 L 81 



