1 88 The Bore of the Hunt 



on the strength of which we think we are quite justified" 



in numbering her as one of the Flowers of the Hunt. 

 * * * * * • 



Those two very noisy swells in scarlet, whose voices 

 one hears above everybody's else in the big ride of Scent 

 Wood, are respectively Mr. Markland Monk, of Monk 

 Lodge, commonly called Baron Munchausen, and a retired 

 army captain named Barker, or *' Bowwow," as they 

 dubbed him in the service. It would be hard, indeed, to 

 say which is the greatest talker, and more difficult still to 

 determine which is the biggest liar of the tvs^ain. Perhaps, 

 as regards the last accomplishment, Markey Monk would 

 carry the day by most votes ; he is decidedly the most 

 amusing, as his power of invention is much greater than 

 that of his rival — the latter's lying consisting more of the 

 bragging, blustering kind. The Captain was just such 

 another, in fact, as Mr. Winkle's Bath friend. Captain 

 Dowler. Imagine the fox to have gone away, and Bow- 

 wow Barker well wedged in amongst a crowd of horse- 

 men, all brought to a standstill in a little narrow ride, with 

 a bridle-gate at the end, through which only one can go out 

 at a time. You then see this mighty sportsman at his best. 

 Though he knows perfectly well he cannot possibly get 

 through his horses, even if he wanted to do so, which he does 

 not, he is unceasing in his cries of '' Get on there in front ! 

 Do get on, sir ! For heaven's sake get out of the way, you, 

 sir, on the grey ! Just my luck ! Here am I on my best 

 horse, and can't get to my hounds ! Too provoking ! " — 

 and so on to the end of the chapter. When he does get 

 through, he makes a tremendous show of making up for 

 lost time, and the way he makes play across the first field, 

 and over the first gap, is a caution. The first fence he 



