ITS KIRBY GATE. 51 



Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Story, Mrs. Langmore, Major and Miss 

 Starkie, Mr. and Mrs. Whitworth, Col. Chippendall, Major 

 Stirling, Major Robertson, Capts. Boyce, Barclay, Hill Trevor, 

 Grimston, Stephen, Campbell, Whitraore, Goodchild, O'Neal, 

 Jacobson ; Revs. Bullen and Trower ; Messrs. Farnham (2), 

 A. Brocklehurst, Desehamps (2), Hume, Martin (2), Kuowles, 

 Praed, Lubbock, Parker, Brand, H. Campbell, Ernest Chaplin, 

 A. C. Barclay, H. T. Barclay, J. Cradock, Cheney, Peake, L. 

 Duncan, Pennington, O. Paget, Fletcher, Bankart, Custance, 

 Winter Johuson, Morley, Black (2), Moule, Fox, Gleadovv, and 

 the Butcher in Blue. 



No falling off, certainly, was there in the matter of carriages, 

 and vehicles of all sorts imaginable and unimaginable. They 

 come by the score to make the scene what it is year by year — 

 a crowd at the meet (a quarter admirable, three-quarters 

 admissible) ; a big procession from Kirby Gate to Gartree Hill, 

 and a gradual dispersion to luncheon and the four winds. It 

 is with the men and women who came to hunt that Ave 

 have to do. At the last moment they dropped in — in many 

 cases as mere pleasing afterthoughts, unexpected and heartily 

 welcomed. Some from Ireland ; some from Norfolk ; more 

 from London — most of them intending to work out six 

 days hunting on a frame unprepared and a skin uninured. 

 Will they do it? "How will they do it?" And this for 

 pleasure ! 



Hearty greetings exchanged, new coats admired, new horses 

 extolled by owners and approved by amiable friends — away to 

 Gartree Hill. One cheer in covert, and then the unwelcome 

 rumble o'er a fox killed asleep. Next a fox away, over the 

 same meadow on the Burton side that year by year brings us 

 forth for our first formal splutter. Now comes our chance of 

 trying our new mounts — three hundred guineas in the dealer's 

 books, or fifty pound ready out of the plough. New coats, new 

 bats, new saddles — croppers a certainty. The last purchase is 

 a clinker — up to now. Unpleasant discoveries develope them- 

 selves fence after fence, as we struggle onwards to Burton 



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