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last he was always the same desperate fellow over a 

 country, and unquestionably possessing, on every occasion 

 and at every hour of the day, the most buU-dog-like nerve 

 ever exhibited in the saddle. His motto was, " I'll be 

 with my hounds ; " and all those who have seen him in 

 the field must acknowledge he made no vain boast of 

 his prowess. His falls were countless ; and no wonder, 

 for he rode at places which Jie knezv no horse could leap 

 over ; but his object was to get, one way or another, 

 into the field with his hounds. As a horseman, how- 

 ever, he has ever been super-excellent. He sits in his 

 saddle as if he were part of his horse, and his seat 

 displays vast power over his frame. In addition to his 

 power his hand is equal to Chiffney's, and the ad- 

 vantages he derives from it may be gleaned from the 

 following : Being seen one day hunting his hounds on 

 Radical, always a difficult, but at that time a more 

 than commonly difficult, horse to ride, he was asked 

 why he did not put a martingale on him to give him 

 more power over his mouth. His answer was cool and 

 laconic : " Thank ye, but my left hand shall be }ny 

 martingale." Mr Smith was the first gentleman who 

 fulfilled the character of huntsman to his hounds in this 

 far-famed country.' 



The stories of ' Tom Smith's ' prowess in the saddle 

 are innumerable. He was the most daring and reckless 

 of riders, albeit there was ever a method in his madness, 

 and probably no man ever had so many falls. Here are 

 some anecdotes of the latter : — 



' Screwdriver,' says Sir John Eardley Wilmot, ' once 

 fairly dislodged the squire into the middle of a gorse 

 cover. He was finding his fox in some very high 

 gorse, and was sitting looseh' on Screwdriver — who, 



