The Bcrioich Day, by a friend. 41 



away to tbeir heart's content, regardless of frost and the 

 troubles and difficulties of foxhunting-. Hunt Clubs are 

 verily a Godsend to the matres famUiarum and dancers 

 in general, even if they do not cast an segis of protection 

 over foxhunting generally. Let us hope and believe that 

 they do. Berwick on Friday was destined to dis- 

 apppoint its votaries. The bone in the ground was still 

 there, and Mr. Lonsdale acted wisely in postponing until 

 Saturday the wished-for sport. Such a tempting day, 

 too, it turned out ! Such a lamb-like east wind, and such 

 soft snowstorms, gently stealing over the heated plain. 

 Borderer was too much liors de combat to encounter 

 such a day, and is indebted to a friend for the following 

 description. Mr. Arthur LLoyd not only found them 

 plenty of foxes, but the afternoon gentleman must have 

 been no ordinary customer, for he travelled over a 

 tremendous lot of ground, and fairly earned his victory 

 at last. 



" After being regaled at a princely breakfast, we all 

 started, full of hope, from Berwick, and proceeded at 

 once, for it was already past mid- day, to draw our old 

 favourite — Hencote Pool. 



" To everyone's grief and astonishment, it was drawn 

 blank, so we retraced our steps over the railway to the 

 Berwick road, and began to draw the never-failing 

 Leaton Knolls. 



" Before five minutes were over we found, and the fox, 

 breaking cover, crossed the Berwick road, and made, as 

 it seemed, for some point on the other side of the railway. 



" Strange to relate, we lost him before even reaching the 

 railway. Some say he doubled back — and this seems most 

 probable — others that he lay quiet and safe in a corner 

 of a covert near the railway, which certainly was never 

 properly drawn. 



" Then we went back to Leaton Knolls, and there began 

 the old " see- saw " up and down the bank — it never 

 being quite certain whether we were after a new or the 

 same fox. At one time, we pushed one right out of 

 Leaton, along the river bank beyond Fitz Church, but 

 there lost him. While, however, we yet pondered 

 whether or no he had crossed the Severn on to the Isle, we 

 heard a holloaing half a mile behind again in the Leaton 

 coverts, and tally-ho'd back at once. 



" Things now seemed more hopeful. The fox never 



