94 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



handsomely at last among the mountains on the 

 Wicklow side of the country. To make open con- 

 fession, I was funking sadly that day, and cannot 

 claim to have been "in it." I may urge the ex- 

 tenuating circumstance that I was riding the same 

 mare who had given me the above-mentioned fall, 

 and who, though a wonderful timber jumper, was just 

 a little rash for Kildare. 



" A more sthragglin' hunt Oi nivir saw in me loife," 

 criticised a stalwart son of the soil whom we passed 

 after running over an hour, and I fear I was among 

 the " sthragglers " that day. 



" A run," said Mr Jorrocks ^ (and who can write 

 of fox-hunting without quoting him ?), " a run is either 

 a buster — elbows and legs throughout — or it's sharp 

 at first and slow afterwards — or it is slow at first and 

 sharp afterwards." I have just glanced at one of the 

 former class and at one of the second. I think, 

 however, that the best run I saw with the Kildares 

 was of the third class, which Mr Jorrocks goes on 

 to say, " is h'awkard for the fox. The thing improves, 

 just like an h'icecream in the eatin'." 



After running a fox to ground in the morning we 

 went off to draw a well-known gorse, by name Mat 

 Conran's. Here there were a brace of foxes, and 

 hounds got away with one. I cannot say that our 

 run was ever slow, but the first part of it was wood- 

 land, for our fox made at once for Ballynure'Wood. 

 Hence they ran through the Grange Con Woods, 

 practically one with Ballynure, being only separated 

 from it by a little brook, and away by Ballyhook, 

 Rathsallagh, and Cross Keys to Dunlavin Town. 



What his point was I know not, but here he was 



1 Eandley Cross, chap, xxxiii. p. 265, original edition. 



