HUNTS WITH JOKROCKS 



stew, that Jorrocks can only articulate, ' Headies ! 

 'ow they go ! ' and Pigg, all anxiety to get his 

 hounds across before the tail comes up, exclaims, 

 * Had bye, ard man ! Sink I ar 'II be dingin on ye 

 down ! ' adding, ' ye 've ne carle to ride for reputa- 

 tion ! ' The tobacco-juice streams down either 

 side of his chin, and his lank hair floats on the 

 breeze as, bare-headed, he caps the hounds over 

 into the field. They are now upon grass again. 

 The scent lies parallel with the lane, and Mr. 

 Jorrocks, whose horse and whose self are nearly 

 pumped out, keeps on the hard road, followed by 

 a heterogeneous tail of mud-stained, elbowing 

 horsemen. The aspirants for fame stick to 

 the hounds, and follow them into every field, 

 Cramcub, who cast up as the hounds broke cover, 

 leading. 



Nothing can be finer than the line ! Large 

 grazing grounds, some forty, none less than twenty 

 acres, are sped over, and twice Dribbleford Brook 

 comes in the way for those whose ambition is 

 waterproof. What a scene ! what blobbings in 



170 



