SOME CHRISTMAS REFLECTIONS 303 



M.F.H. dines the M.F.H. brings his night-cap " was 

 the ultimatum of Mr. Jorrocks, and met with such 

 approval that it is often now imitated by the field ; 

 yet, though I was not a member, I " dined in Carlow," 

 a youthful guest, after the great day from the meet 

 at Killerig, and have a very pleasant recollection of 

 the evening. I heard more about fox-hunting and 

 great runs than I ever had listened to in the same 

 space of time, the proceedings were perfectly decorous, 

 though amusing, and there was no necessity for 

 "sermons and soda-water the day after." 



To such a gathering one cannot but look back with 

 pleasure, and one may sigh for something of the same 

 again. " Come and dine and sleep, and we'll swop lies 

 about hunting," writes a friend, an ex-M.F.H. ; but I 

 can't, so he's coming to me instead, and I have another 

 to meet him : 'tis the best we can do in these times. 

 The strong north-west wind has driven away the dark, 

 overhanging pall that has for so long remained close 

 to us and gloomily discharged perpetual rain ; it will 

 dry up the sodden land and let the horses have a 

 chance ; and who knows but the scent may improve ? 

 Here is a strong sunburst, too, as I write, to cheer us 

 up and make things look ready for Christmas— a time 

 that, in spite of the grumblings of paterfamilias, I 

 think has an attraction for the most morbid. There 

 is a grinding of the gravel, a tread of horses' feet on 

 the avenue, and a wild cheer from the nursery 

 windows. Have we not the young ones home again 

 to rejuvenate us? It is good to notice how soon the 

 question comes, "Where are the hounds this week?" 

 and to see how eagerly the card is scanned. I think 



