A SMOKING-ROOM PALAVER 339 



you are always hammering on. And after twenty 

 minutes of such work it comes upon you that you 

 may as well let your nag know you have a pair of 

 spurs on ; and it is only if you have to retrace your 

 steps on the homeward journey over the same line 

 that you get any idea of the great distance you have 

 come in so short a time. 



In the best gallop I ever enjoyed in my life — it was 

 from Kiltorkan Gorse in Kilkenny to a ppint between 

 Bessborough and Castletown where they killed — hounds 

 never checked ; that is, they never were spoken to ; 

 they "hovered" but wheeled and caught the scent 

 up for themselves several times, no doubt, but there 

 was no distinct pause. All the first part of the run 

 was over a very easy, open country with low fences 

 and walls, and many gaps through which the fox had 

 generally passed. The point is nine and three-quarter 

 miles, and the time was just five minutes over the 

 hour. Owing to a thick, misty drizzle on the low 

 hills near Huggenstown and Booliglass it was not 

 easy to tell exactly how far they ran, but I fancy it 

 must have been at least a mile and a half more. Now 

 the great pace of this run was much talked of at 

 the time, but the truth is that a great many folk, 

 including the M.F.H., were left on the far side of 

 the railway with a good deal of leeway to make up. 

 As a matter of fact, there was no great difficulty in 

 staying with hounds who never seemed to be " flying," 

 but never stopped " hammering on " in a manner I 

 have not seen equalled since. 



