A FOXHUNTING JOURNAL 25 



raw? Think of the hot bath, and the hot with (also with 

 lemon), then dinner, then yawns before the fire, then bed, 

 and then dreams, the sound of the Percival; the pistol 

 shots of the well-dubbined thong that go echoing in Thrust- 

 ington Woods, the deep notes of Abelard, Abigail, and the 

 other beauties; the swish over that big place; the way 

 your horse pulled you out of the saddle for the first two 

 miles, and then went like the good 'un he is, making light 

 of that hillside, and fair sailing over even the plow; then, 

 cuss him, your servant knocks on the door and spoils the 

 whole show; and you know that, even if you do go to sleep 

 again, you won't dream it all over again." But, for Hea- 

 ven's sake, let's "Tally-Ho Bike"; we are n't even at the 

 meet yet. 



Shellbark Hollow, always the first draw from a Goshen 

 meet, was blank to-day; but the Hershey's Mill fox was 

 at home. He kindly allowed us all to see him leave home 

 soon after we arrived. He went out of covert just in front 

 of hounds, the whole pack running by sight across the big 

 fields in front of the Brown place to the wood, where a 

 sharp, right-handed turn brought hounds to their noses; 

 then, carrying a good scent with a beautiful cry, they 

 raced back to the hill above the Mill, over the King Road, 

 and into the thicket. Here a big new, four-rail fence, took 

 a lot of doing and held things up a moment. Mrs. Fred 

 Sturges's new brown mare "Grandma" turned upside 

 down, but they were up and going again in a minute, with 

 hounds now fairly flying towards Frazier; but, keeping 

 the station well on their right, pushed their fox to ground 

 near the covert, after having given us a delightful sixty- 

 five minutes. 



A second fox was pushed out of a neighboring wood, but 

 hounds were barely settled to the line when the rain came 



