26 RADNOR REMINISCENCES 



down in torrents, scent failing at once. Coat-collars were 

 turned up, throat-latches buttoned, and the wet proces- 

 sion started for home. Fifteen miles is a long way in the 

 rain. 



Tuesday, 30/^ December, 1913 

 Some crossroads may be appropriate places for hounds to 

 meet, but an old country inn or tavern always seems to 

 me the more fitting spot. There's that air of the old-time 

 world and a certain lack of present-day hustle and bustle 

 about an inn that fits in so well with hounds. 



Newtown Square this morning at ten-thirty was more 

 like a lazy day in early June than the end of December; 

 and, to quote the newspapers, the present month has been 

 the warmest December since 1790. Hounds have not been 

 stopped by frost yet this season, and the farmers are be- 

 ginning to worry about getting their ice-houses filled. 



Mr. Vauclain's peach orchard was, as usual, the first 

 draw; hounds finding at once, and Reynard giving us a 

 nice view as he leaped out over the tall grass, ran to the 

 top of the hill, sat down, looked around at hounds, and, 

 after taking stock of the situation, galloped on, making a 

 big circle of the farm, hounds carrying the line back to 

 covert; but, pushing through, crossed the Newtown Road 

 into Battles, and, keeping the little stone farmhouse on 

 their left, swung down into Snakehouse Wood and on 

 through to Trimble's Hollow; then, bearing left-handed, 

 they fairly raced down the meadows to the covered bridge 

 on the Line Road, where, at a moment's check, hounds 

 ran on up the hillside to the Glendenning Farm, checking 

 again along the creek opposite the Mark Hopkins barn. 



A farmhand at the barn had viewed, so a forward cast 

 by Will Leverton put hounds right again, and, pointing 



