The Last Day of the Season. 199 



proposed by dear old Mr. Grimboy as the ladies called him, 

 in his happiest manner, and that an unheard of quantity of 

 champagne was consumed by the sportsmen present. 

 Finally the bride and bridegoom, having changed their 

 garments for ordinary attire, took their departure en route 

 for Paris for the honeymoon amidst a shower of rice and old 

 shoes, and a perfect volley of '' Gone aways," '' Tally- 

 ho's," and other hunting cries, from the now wine-flushed 

 sportsmen assembled to see them drive off. 



''And now," remarked Lord Daisyfield to Lady Tommy, 

 as they watched the receding carriage, " as it's the 'last 

 day of the season,' the sooner we get to our horses, if we 

 are to find that afternoon fox, the better." Accordingly 

 my lord sought his hunter, and very shortly the vast 

 cavalcade followed in the wake of Tom Tootler and the 

 hounds across the park to draw Mr. Bluebell's spinneys. 

 It really seemed as if nothing could go wrong that day, for 

 a fox was found almost directly and went away at a rattling 

 pace over the grass. After five-and-forty minutes as hard 

 as ever they could go, without a check, they killed him in 

 the open. Thanks to the champagne consumed at break- 

 fast, the large field rode like demons ; and the quantity of 

 wedding-favours that were distributed in the course of the 

 afternoon amongst the hairy fences in the vale, you would 

 hardly .believe. However, ride as they might, the pace 

 was so great that only a select few were on anything like 

 terms with the hounds. '' Only eight of us up," remarked 

 Tom Chirpington to Johnnie CHnker. "Oh, and here 

 comes old Dolly ! That makes nine." 



"Yes," said Lord Daisyfield, as he presented the brush to 

 Lady Tommy, "it's about the fastest thing we've had 

 this season. Where's Charles Wildoats, by the way?" 



