A FOXHUNTING JOURNAL 13 



by and left her sitting in a brook, never offering a helping 

 hand. After walking "miles and miles," as she said, she 

 had found her horse tied to a fence! 



Next I met Ned Blabon, near Gradyville, wrangling 

 with a balky horse, and his temper was also a bit frayed at 

 the edges. 



Then I met Ben Chew and Harry Barclay on the West 

 Chester Pike; but they were also lost. 



Hounds ran their fox from the Square to Snakehouse 

 Wood, to Castle Rocks, to Brooks's Wood, through the 

 Hospital Farm to the Radnor Barrens, Lawrence Mills, 

 and were whipped off at the Lamb Tavern. A very good 

 place to whip off! 



Mrs. Valentine and Frank Smith, the second whipper- 

 in, who had made a bad turn at the start, heard hounds on 

 up-country, so, thinking they were Radnor, galloped 

 after them, finally coming up to them only to discover they 

 were Sam Kirk's and just putting a fox to earth in Cath- 

 cart's Rocks, many miles from where our hounds were at 

 that moment. 



Tuesday, 25th February, 1913 

 Only four of us were foolish enough, or keen enough, — 

 whichever way you want to put it, — to go hunting to- 

 day. Hounds waited around a bit after the scheduled 

 time to move off, to see if any one else would turn up, but 

 with the glass at 1 2°, and a high wind, frozen fingers, and a 

 horse that one could just hold, but maybe not much longer, 

 for he felt as if he was going to jump out of his skin the 

 next second, the prospect did not look encouraging. 



Fortunately, we (Mr. Fiske, Buck, Frank Lloyd, and I) 

 did n't have to do much sitting around, for a fox was 

 viewed away, immediately hounds were put into the 



