Maesfen — A First Bate Fifty Minutes. 65 



•experiment repeated of having tlie second whip's horse, as 

 well as his own, on the top of him in a ditch. Nor does 

 the young Squire Walford way any longer desire the too 

 ■close attentions of a Shrewsbury lawyer. The incidents 

 of this lively gallop will remain green in the Shropshire 

 memories long after Borderer's diary has perished into 

 oblivion. 



And here we are at another Saturday with Sir Watkin 

 at Maesfen. They are getting precious now, for are not 

 the birds already in full song, the lambs skipping, and 

 the snowdrops and violets poking up their pretentious 

 little nosegays, to bid defiance at foxhunting ? A big 

 meet everyone expected, and the ladies simply thronged. 

 I counted more than a score, and did not nearly complete 

 the total. Sir Watkin' s ladies are noted for their nice un- 

 assuming manners, steady hands stout hearts, and above 

 all, a thorough appreciation of their sport, and their place 

 in the field. What more could I say on their behalf ? The 

 usual news at the meet. The South Cheshire had been 

 all through the coverts the day before, and killed a fox 

 close to Mr. Kenyon's favourite gorse. Hard luck, 

 especially as the veteran foxhunter, in the nobleness of his 

 heart, had stopped his eatrhs for the Cheshire, and thus 

 had seen one of his own foxes killed close to his own door 

 that might have otherwise alforded sport for to-day. " To 

 bear and forbear" is our motto, so, after a fruitless search 

 in the gorse, we trotted gaily to Goodmore Dingle, which 

 held a brace or more, and we soon had to scramble into 

 and over the dingle just in time to get a start with the 

 hounds beyond. There was no mistake about the way in 

 which hounds flung themselves into their work, and it 

 looked all over like being an exciting gallop for three 

 fields, with the crowd well spread out by the dingle, when 

 a labourer on the top of a rick headed him back to the 

 cover, which was soon surrounded by hoi-se and foot, so 

 that he had to scramble into a half drain, half rabbit 

 hole, to save his skin. Some tweniy minutes were cut to 

 waste in trying to dislodge him, and then the order was 

 for Iscoyd. No sound here, but the best covert was being 

 cut, so on we moved towards the Wyches with fast fading 

 hopes, as the country grew rougher and the day waned, 



Patience, mon ami, * ' everything comes to him who 

 waits." 



Taylor's Gorse, looked after by our excellent friend Mr. 



