98 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



the falls began — and they came freely enough as soon as the 

 ball was really set a rolling. The authority of the oldest fox- 

 hunter — of course the Rev. John Bullen, now riding his 

 eightieth season — goes to bear out the assertion that Leicester- 

 shire was never so wet and deep as now. Horses may splash and 

 flounder over the surface for a half-hour's burst even yet ; for 

 the saturated ground will take in no more moisture, and they 

 slip out as readily as they slip in. Besides, horses that still 

 have legs to go upon are twice as fit as in the earlier months. 

 But when once their first vigour is exhausted, and the impetus 

 of pace no longer exists — when, instead of rushing over their 

 fences as they reach them, the}' are called upon to pull up 

 and gather themselves afresh for a strong effort at each 

 deep trodden gap, as must be when a large field is finding its 

 way over a wet country in a slow hunting run — then the depth 

 of the ground finds them out, and sets its stamp in the shape 

 of falls innumerable. Fences of which a pony would have 

 made light in November, now constantly effect the downfall of 

 accomplished hunters. They jump into bogs where a bog never 

 existed before ; they slide into ditches, and slip up to timber ; 

 and they fall from exhaustion when in ordinaiy times their 

 strength would have been scarcely taxed. Men who would con- 

 tinue to ride to hounds have learnt to accept their tumbles 

 cheerfully by the brace ; esteem one per diem as of no account, 

 making of a cropper no bones, as they never seem to break any. 

 Hatters and tailors are having a pressure put upon them that 

 is far more cheerfully borne than is the strain that has devolved 

 upon the gentlemen of the wardrobe at home. The latter have 

 at last encountered the bugbear of work, in its most serious 

 form ; and in some cases have only been withheld from throwing 

 up the sponge by an appeal to their finer feelings of self 

 interest. The grooms have still more to bear — and they bear 

 it in sorrow that is not always silent. Having by this time 

 exhausted every nostrum that bears upon blows, bangs and 

 strains, they have had to fall back — wherever the material of 

 mastership is sufficiently pliable or solvent — on a requisition 



