178 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



earliness of the hour. Perhaps some of the keenest 

 sportsmen wish it were a little earlier, so as to enable 

 them to hunt with the Py tchley Jirst, and some other 

 pack afterwards, and thus get seven days' hunting in 

 the week. " To hunt six days a- week, and talk about 

 it the seventh," was somebody's idea of earthly bliss. 

 As the opportunity of doing so has not come in every- 

 body's way, I may perhaps be allowed to express 

 the opinion that six days a-week is rather too much. 

 For though the season I tried it — in which, by the 

 way, we had two months without one day's frost — 

 I was perhaps fitter than at any other time in my 

 life, I was drawn a bit fine by March, and, truth to 

 tell, a little inclined to look forward to Sunday, and 

 to remark about three o'clock, ** They won't do any 

 more good ; anybody going my way ? " Whereas in 

 other years it had been, " Going home ! Oh, no ; 

 they're sure to find at so and so." In fact, I distinctly 

 recollect one evening, ten years ago, with the H.H. 

 (I wonder if Mr Arthur Wood does ?) when he and I, 

 and possibly one or two more besides the servants, 

 dragged on after a beaten fox till long after dark^ 

 jumping our fences on the principle of putting all the 

 steam possible on at each, as we could not possibly 

 see what they were. The *' beaten fox '^ beat us all 

 the same. But I have got a long way from the 

 Pytchley, and must "try back." 



At the time I write of, the Pytchley were hunted 

 by a Goodall ; to how many members of which family 

 have I not cause to be thankful for good sport shown ? 

 The day was a Friday, but, nevertheless, I fancy the 

 meet was larger than those on a Saturday in Kildare, 

 the biggest fox-hunting gatherings I had then seen. 

 It is unnecessary for me to chronicle those who were 



