THE BLANK DAY 279 



During a hard winter more new tales and 

 anecdotes are hatched in Clubland and other parts of 

 the British Metropolis than usual, I think, and on an 

 occasion like the present you are sure to hear a yarn 

 or two, and perchance a verse, that will bring a smile 

 to the gravest, though grave folks are in a minority 

 in the hunting-field. Then there is the last good run 

 to recapitulate, and we hear news of the doings of 

 the neighbouring packs, of whose followers some will 

 probably be present. So the minutes pass. At last 

 the fiat is given. Is it "hunt" or "go home' ? If 

 the former, there are times when a great run is 

 brought off, as was the case in Carlow on just such 

 a day last week ; or we may pick our way about in 

 doubtful pleasure, with an indifferent scent and with 

 hounds only just able to puzzle out the tortuous 

 ways of Reynard, who is taking it very easy in front ; 

 in which case there will be much hesitation in the 

 order of our going, and no great anxiety displayed to 

 get at the fences. If, on the other hand, " Home ' 

 be the word, we retire, hating more heartily than 

 ever the miseries of " a doubtful day." 



A few pages back reference was made to one of 

 John Leech's hunting sketches in Punch. May I be 

 excused if I call attention to another drawing by the 

 same artist? It is called "A Frolic Home after a 

 Blank Day," and is one of the most spirited and 

 not the least amusing of Leech's hunting sketches. 

 The group of horsemen who are frolicking home in 

 this reprehensible style is composed of several very 

 different types of humanity, and the steeds they 



