s6 Ikinas of tbe 1f3unting«»3PielD 



time, though the horse cleared the gate, the chaise 

 stuck on the top rail. 



' That just serves 'ee right,' said the pike-keeper. 



' So it does, old chap,' retorted Tom, ' and now we're 

 quits.' 



Whereupon they shook hands and made friends ; but 

 Tom had another try at the gate, and cleared it just for 

 the fun of the thing, and because he didn't like being 

 beaten. 



He was but a little chap, about five feet six inches in 

 height, and he never scaled much more than eight stone ; 

 his round pock-marked face was full of good humour, 

 and his little eyes twinkled with fun. Yet his spare 

 frame was wonderfully muscular ; he was as strong as a 

 little Highland bull, and he didn't know what fear 

 meant. He made as light of stone walls and five-feet- 

 six-inch gates as if they were three-feet hurdles. 



An old gossip of Shifnal, who knew Tom well, used 

 to say, ' Ay, ay, sir, you should have seen him on his 

 horse, a mad, wild animal no one but Tom could ride. 

 He could ride him, though, with his eyes shut, savage as 

 he was, and on a good road he would pass the milestones 

 as the clock measures minutes : but give him the green 

 meadows, and Lord ! how I have seen him whip along 

 the turf 



Squire Forester always maintained that Tom was 

 the best whipper-in in England, and this was praise 

 and fame enough for honest Tom. He had no higher 

 ambition. ' The Druid ' quotes the opinions of some of 

 Tom's fellow hunt-servants, which are somewhat dis- 

 paraging, but then the last persons in the world from 

 whom one can expect fair criticism of a man are those 

 of his own calling — professional jealousy and prejudice, 



