Preface 13 



the writer simply goes into bankruptcy; his debts of gratitude 

 can never be paid. 



It is singular in looking back over the twenty odd years 

 which tliis and the previous volume cover, how all the "blank 

 days, all the cold, rainy, disagreeable days," are quite for- 

 gotten, the days when for some unaccountable reason we 

 were unable to get on good terms with our mount, the days 

 when we had to work our passage from start to finish of the 

 run, steering or trying to, some hard-mouthed ill-humoured 

 brute. 



Yes, it is singular how these unpleasant, these disagreeable 

 days are quite forgotten, and that it is only the best and really 

 glorious days that live on to cheer and brighten. This is just 

 as it should be. It is such days as are herein recorded that 

 make the blood canter again at the sound of galloping hoofs. 

 It is the recolleciion of such days as these that in spite of 

 grey hairs and rheumatic twitches — makes one feel all over 

 young again. An affection for the chase, especially riding to 

 hounds, invariably deepens in the hearts of most hunting men 

 with increasing years, until the sight of a matronly-looking 

 mare makes them quite as solicitous as a father for his ex- 

 pectant first-born, while a foal at foot of their favourite hunt- 

 ing mare makes them as foolish as a grandfather in his dotage. 

 The author does not speak from personal experience of this 

 latter condition, but he feels it coming on, and judging from 

 those who have gone this way before him, he is getting there 

 all too fast. 



Well, let it come and may the setting sun shed its parting 

 light on no meaner or less cheery picture than recollections 

 of "The Hunting Field With Horse and Hound." 



