.)74 FOX-HOUND, FOREST, AND PRAIRIE. 



their fox, and rolled liim over — in our very midst. A seedy 

 fox, of course — or the gallop would have been greater. But it 

 was stirring and blithesome while it lasted. And we all love a 

 ride — who shall deny it. Had time and distance been doubled, 

 this ride would have been deemed a gem. Very delightful is 

 this Northamptonshire corner, of the lengthiest country in 

 hunting England ; very sharp and businesslike is the pack that 

 hunts it ; and very smart and capable are the field who ride 

 over it. A few names I venture from a most indifferent 

 memory to recall, as instancing some who hunt more or less 

 regularly hereabouts : the Master and Lady Chesham, Mr. and 

 Lady Rose Leigh, Mr. W. and Lady D. Long, Mr. and Lady 

 S. Larnach, Mr. and Mrs. Boyle, Mr. and Mrs. Church, Mr. 

 and Mrs. Blacklock, Mr. and Mrs. Peareth, Mr. and Miss 

 Laycock, Lord Londonderry, Lord Valentia, Col. Molyneux, 

 Capt. Allfrey, CajDt. Follett, Messrs. Cassel, Grazebrook, 

 Thursby, etc., etc. And an exceptional number of farmers 

 invariably turn out at these fortnightly meets. Take, for 

 instance, the following, viz. : Messrs. Scriven, Fabling, Knott, 

 Cooper (2), Russell, Goodman, Martin, Johnson, Wood, Sabin (2), 

 Douglas, Griffin, Wrighton, Bromwich, Eldridge, Gardner, 

 Reading, Addison, Ivens, Oldham, etc. 



On a third episode of the day I shall not dwell. But for 

 tension of nervous excitement — in that you have to stand by 

 helpless while a fellow being is in extreme and prolonged peril 

 before your very eyes — commend me to the horrid sight of 

 man or woman being dragged across a field, head downwards 

 from a galloping horse. It is only marvellous that Providence 

 seldom fails to carry the sufferer through, alive. But were I a 

 Duke, hunting a country at my own expense, the first order I 

 would give, and insist upon, should be that no lady should 

 venture out except in a safety-skirt. 



On Monday, the second day of lamblike March, the Grafton 

 met at Stowe Nine Churches, and killed a brace of foxes — the 

 first unluckily, the second by running him hard for a twisting 

 hour, till they turned him over in the open. A hot day 



