222 FOX-HUNTING TYPES 



fall ? A peal of bells ; aye, the old, old simile — we can 

 find no better. 



Look out, now ! Here we are at the end of the 

 lane, and out upon the broad high-road. Hark to 

 the Master's " Hold hard ! " He knows what's in front 

 of them. But look at the hounds coming out on to 

 the road ; how intense their eagerness ; how changed 

 and strangely savage their appearance. Here comes 

 a double-distilled fool bursting on to the road 

 after them, and dropping right in among them, 

 heedless of the Master's objurgations ; and look 

 to the left along the road at the crowd that are 

 coming up best pace. Aye, hold up your hand and 

 check them ! Anyhow, we can do that much good. 

 But hark to Relic along the road to the right there, 

 and see how the pack scour after her. There is good 

 Grove blood in her, and her forbears could all carry 

 a line along a road, though none like her. " Lord 

 Galway for ever ! " — how she does spin along ! " Age 

 cannot tame" the good old hound. One day a week 

 she comes out, and rests the remainder of the week, 

 and she never comes out but she makes her mark. 



" Mrs. Macadam " they call her, and when dust is on 

 the road or through stain of horse and cattle she will 

 hustle along the highway and keep her tongue going, 

 too. She has two daughters out, and you'll see them 

 close to her now, I'm sure. Aye, there they are — 

 Rival and Rally. But now the old lady stops, and 

 the pack swing over the fence to the left, for the 

 Master's cap is off, and listen to his " Yoi ; over, over, 

 over ! " We can watch the men now. How the 

 Master's old brown settles himself down, almost " sits 



