^6 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 



my way about thirty years ago as well as I do 

 now. Fortunately there was a cottage at the 

 corner, and after a great deal of trouble we got 

 the people to come and tell us which road to 

 take for Wickford. To add to our trials, the 

 horse I was riding was just about done up, lame, 

 and at any time a shocking bad hack. He had 

 landed over several fences on his head — in fact, 

 it had been quite a mercy that he possessed a 

 head to make use of for that purpose. Well, 

 all things bad and good have an ending, so did 

 'Our ride, and we got to Wickford drenched to 

 the skin, and we were very glad to borrow 

 clothes from Mrs. Bull, the landlady of the 

 Castle Inn, and her maid, Julia — they were both 

 portly persons, and, at the time I write of, we 

 were slim. I leave it to my reader's imagina- 

 tion to picture what we looked like. The horses 

 had to remain at the Castle Inn till Sunday 

 afternoon, the floods were too high for them to 

 get through. It was only by not letting the 

 grass grow under our feet over our toilet that 

 we managed to get away in the carriage. Never 

 after that day did I start out hunting without a 

 "bag of clothes. In fact, the next hunting day 

 Bessie said, " Got your things, Gus ?" " I have," 

 I repUed. But she went one better than I, she 

 'had taken her " nighty " ! 



One day soon after, the neighbourhood was 

 plunged into great excitement. The Parson's 

 house had been broken into by burglars. The 

 Inspector came up to consult my father ; such a 

 thing as burglary was unknown in these quiet 

 •districts where many of the farm labourers had 



