THE 'CAT AND CUSTARD-POT' DAY 



ecstasies! He whoops, and shouts, and grins, 

 and rolls in his saddle, looking more like the 

 drunken Huzzar at the circus, than the sober, 

 well-conducted citizen. 



'F-o-r-rard on!' is still his cry. Hark! They've 

 turned and are coming towards him. Jorrocks 

 hears them, and spurs on in hopes of a nick. 

 Fortune favours him, as she generally does the 

 brave and persevering, and a favourable fall of 

 the land enables our friend to view the fox still 

 travelling on at an even, stealthy sort of pace, 

 though certainly slower than the still pressing, 

 squeak, squeak, yap, yap, running pack. Pigg 

 and Charley are in close attendance, and Jorrocks 

 nerves himself for a grand effort to join them. 



'I'll do it,' says he, putting Xerxes at a 

 well broken-down cattle-gap, into Wandermoor 

 Common. This move lands him well inside the 

 hounds, and getting upon turf he hugs his horse, 

 resolved to ride at whatever comes in his way. 

 Another gap, not quite so well flattened as the 

 first, helps our friend on in his project, and 

 N 97 



