A FOXHUNTING JOURNAL 153 



Waynesboro, where hounds swung left-handed, came 

 down-country through Sachse's swamp, out to the Leo- 

 pard and back to Dr. Bartholomew's, where comedy 

 turned to tragedy, and after a few uncensored words be- 

 tween a prominent Master of Fox Hounds and an ex-Mas- 

 ter, and after one Master had been invited to visit in a 

 warmer climate than we have at Radnor in December, one 

 ex-M.F.H. was sent home from school. 



Fortunately, the fumes of brimstone did not spoil 

 scent; the wind was in our favor; but so interested was the 

 field in the drama of the moment, that when the curtain 

 was lowered on scene Number 4, and the leading man (af- 

 ter a short speech to his interested audience) had taken his 

 departure, hounds were nearly out of sight and hearing and 

 racing up-country. 



We came on terms with them in the Hawthorne Woods 

 where the Master of Hawthorne could not resist the temp- 

 tation of going home to lunch. 



Hounds made another big circle around the country, 

 bringing their fox through Hawthorne again, but by this 

 time the Master of Hawthorne had satisfied the inner man, 

 and the cry of hounds disturbing his after-dinner nap, be- 

 took himself to the window, saw Reynard crossing the 

 meadow, and the inner man consenting, caught hounds at 

 Mr. Wayne's on a fresh horse and had another hour of 

 hunting. 



Hounds ran their fox three hours and five minutes, 

 making three circles of the country. Scent was catchy after 

 the first loop. 



Saturday, loth January, 1920 

 Can't you feel what it was like, even if you were not at 

 White Horse this morning at eleven o'clock.^ The glass 



