Sam Bridge — Alcliam Bridge. 95 



back. Here, amongst otliers, a scion of the Thatclier 

 family successfully Ijegan his brook jumpino- — the lad 

 promises well. Unfortunately tins fox beat them soon 

 after, as unaccounteclly as his compeer, or probably he 

 himself, had done when hunted by Sir Watkin. I fancy 

 he doubled back into the Sandpit earth near Bletchley 

 village. Anyhow, Losford Gorse provided another, and 

 away they went, Hodnet way, then to the left, crossed the 

 brook low down near the railway. A ford saved very 

 much grief, but the peaty meadows en route to Styche 

 tried everyone's nerves who meant going straight, as 

 hounds ran well up to Styche, and onto Shavington, close 

 to which No. 2 went to ground. A nice gallop. A long 

 trot back to the Twemlow, and then a fox was quickly 

 found that also proved himself to be a good one, as he 

 broke to the north, gave his pursuers a rare dusting, 

 leaving Ightfield village on his right, and slipping along 

 merrily on the grass to Ash, where, in the midst of the 

 steeplechase course, he managed to find a hole in which 

 to ensconse himself and be safe — as the Shropshire were 

 outside their country. This was a very smart gallop, but 

 a second horse was required to thoroughly enjoy it, after 

 the morning's work. No. 4 in the Twemlow proved a 

 vixen, and so was saved — bringing to end a good day. 



Sarn Bridge, with Sir Watkin, was, I believe, a red 

 letter day, but I have gained few particulars, and am 

 unable to retail it properly. A fox from Taylor's Rough, 

 I believe went to Maesfen, Bickley, and Cholmondeley, 

 merely skirting which he turned to the right down to 

 Wrenbury Frith, where l>e was killed — of course in 

 Cheshire country. This run looks web on the map, and 

 must have been fast, as it only lasted an hour. 



Wednesday at Atcham Bridge with the Shropshire, and 

 Broughton with Sir Watkin, were decided failures from 

 one and the same cause — failure of foxes and want of 

 scent. Attingham Hall coverts have grown very bare at 

 this season of the year, and the withy beds are being cut, 

 so that a dog fox has no encouragement to lie there, and 

 the vixens and their earths were wisely not disturbed. 

 Longner has been unlucky all the season. Haughmond 

 Hill in the afternoon was more fortunate, but the day had 

 grown colder, and worse in every respect. We managed 

 to hunt one down to the Abbey, where he dodged us. 

 Holly Coppice set us a going again, with, I think, the 



