A MIXED MARCH. 



107 



why was it not my close-cropped and unworthy head that 

 dipped backward into that cool-running stream ? The sun was 

 warm, but the water and the breeze were terribly cold — and I 

 am no longer young nor fair. 



But the railway, more than the rivulet, furnished the cord of 

 the hunt. It baffled the field, and may have influenced a faint 

 hearted fox, though it put no impediment in the way of hounds. 

 " Your blessed, crabbed railways spoil your Quorn country ! " 

 quoth a well-known optimist of the adjoining Hunt. But he 

 omitted, from some accident of memory, to emphasize the fact 

 that he and the railway and the hounds had all been playing at 

 cross purposes throughout. So on his own hypothesis he was 

 doubtless right ; but this did not prevent a quick pack from 

 doubling back with their fox from Keyham and killing him 

 right handsomely close to where he had first got up — all horses 

 beat, and never a check from the find. 



This was only the beginning ; for the sun w T ent down, and 

 hope sprung up. But it was the end also, for ne'er another fox 

 was to be found, and the afternoon ended in a roadside gallop 



