MERRY CHRISTMAS. 407 



again. The wire is all down, and the covert holds. To-day's 

 fox, then, yet made good his way into the country from out the 

 thorn thicket. By this time we had nearly lost hope of a run ; 

 but soon were squeezing our way over the dangers of a broken 

 bridge into the Watling Street, where the Old Road runs green 

 and neglected through fields. And he followed it for a mile, 

 then turned across a pretty flat for his old direction, Crick 

 village and beyond. This beyond was eventually Watford 

 Gorse ; and to get there we had a jovial Christmas ride, where- 

 in hounds ran just fast enough at right times and the little 

 world seemed full of go. A Merry Christmas indeed, indeed. 

 No use have we for the old man in frost and icicles, for skates 

 and for sledges, and such like polar barbarities, or for idle 

 gluttony and patent pills. " A Green Christmas " may mean 

 " a full churchyard," though for the life of me I can't see why 

 — and of a verity it will not be of hunting-men for yet awhile. 

 They seemed to have tried hard for a place, too, some of those 

 who rode from Crick to Watford Gorse and thence to Win wick 

 Warren — if muddied backs and crumpled hats were anv testa- 

 ment to rashness. In no single case, I can aver, could blame be 

 attached to the horse ! For, with assertion pronounced and 

 instantaneous, came answer invariable to the query " Are you 

 hurt ? " — the formula " It wasn't the horse's fault at all, I 

 assure you." All the world's a mart : at least all the Grass 

 Countries are. 



Whether a fresh fox, or not, from Watford Gorse I cannot 

 say. But he made the route to Winwick Warren very enjoy- 

 able, and dispersed for us all the drawbacks of a tempestuous 

 day. On arrival we were dry : and, soon after, having made 

 up our minds quite a quarter of an hour earlier than the per- 

 severing huntsman we were busy with the sandwich-boxes. 

 " Luncheon " they call it nowadays, as well warranted by the 

 leather edifices that rise up, drink-and-food containing, half 

 way to a second-horseman's shoulder-blades. A fortnight ago I 

 chanced to take out for his first day's hunting a youth from 

 school. The day at an end I asked him what he had seen. 



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