Mr, T. T. Drake, J-mi. 297 



and does not eat half of it, but buries it in the 

 ploughed field." 



The advice he received was to shoot the fox 

 at once, not to make it known, but to bury him. 

 Losing no time, the farmer set his man to watch 

 that very night. He had not long to wait ; over 

 the wall came an object; the man fired, and killed 

 — the Master's retriever ! 



I once had two good horses of Mr. Praed's, 

 and met the Bicester at Chilton, and a nice ride 

 I enjoyed in the Vale. Finding at Shearsley 

 Gorse, the fox led us over a fine country, well 

 supplied with water, and I have a vivid recollection 

 of the fun there was over it. The Squire was 

 himself hunting, and right well he did it ! He 

 killed a good stout fox in a country (near Thame) 

 where I never hunted before nor since. We then 

 went into the Wootton Woods and found another 

 fox, which was soon away, and he ran a whole 

 line of deep meadows. I had sailing orders from 

 Mr. Praed, and carried them out by indulging my 

 horse in a good stride for thirty minutes. The 

 fox beat us and we retired ; but, on my way home, 

 I could feel an unpleasant bumping against my 

 left leg, the only time I experienced that sensation 

 with my horse. Weight-carriers, as a rule, don't 

 like to be hurried, particularly at starting. 



