30 ON GOING TO COVERT: MERITS 



picks one up, and you get down and set to work 

 with the crook of your hunting-crop ; that fails to do 

 the trick alone, and a stone must be selected to use 

 as a hammer. It is out at last ; your gloves are 

 filthy, but you must have a look at the watch, and 

 are appalled at the lateness of the hour. Round the 

 next corner you encounter a steam traction-engine, 

 and the mare never did like a traction-engine, so 

 more delay is caused while she is led past the 

 puffing abomination ; the Recording Angel has a busy 

 time now. 



There are sharp-cut wheel-marks on the road and 

 tracks of horses on the verges, but no one comes up 

 behind you. Where the mud is thickest, too, you 

 can see the footprints of the hounds, but no velvet 

 caps are bobbing above the hedgerows where the 

 road turns, and when we come into a long bit of 

 straight there are no splashes of scarlet in front of 

 you. Late, awfully late ! you think, and take the 

 whip from the bucket, as the road is a bit smoother, 

 and endeavour to make up for lost time ; while the 

 reflection that the mare played the fool at the 

 traction-engine makes the application of the thong 

 rather a bitter one. "Hang her!" you say to yourself, 

 " but for that we might be there now ! " There are 

 stones again, though, on the slight descent you now 

 make, and you had best go slow, but when she rises 

 the hill you become aware that she is going dead 

 lame. Another stone ! I thought so ! and the pleasant 

 performance described above is repeated. Now, ahead 

 of the trap is a long line of hay carts very heavy 

 laden, and the road is not very wide, and it seems to 



