Berwick Hall. 7 



said mail train accomplished more than old Alec could, 

 for it there and then cut oft' all four pads and his brushy 

 and there lay his carcase the next morning with the 

 partly-devoured rabbit by his side ! Fact, not fiction, 

 this, as the stationmaster at Craven Arms will vouch, if 

 desired. In the evening these hounds had a rattlini^ 

 gallop to ground in Millie!^. ope Park. 



On Saturday the vicious elements had expended their 

 wrath, and as nice a hunting morning opened for the 

 meet of the Shropshire, at Berwick Hall, as could 

 possibly have been desired. A good field availed 

 themselves of the opportunit}-, and Mr. Watson gave a 

 warm welcome to all. The big wood failed to hold a 

 fox, and also the Pool Covert, but no sooner had the 

 liounds been thrown into a snug gorse, of which I forget 

 the name, than there was a holloa back. In the result 

 the hounds refused to own a line, and Hencote Pool wa& 

 requisitioned. Here a fox was on his legs instantly, and, 

 after a few minutes of musical pressure, broke towards 

 the \Yem Road, and then swung round by Hencote 

 Farm to the rifle range, but scent came to an end here 

 and he had probably doubled on the raihvay. Thatcher 

 hit him off near his starting place, and thence by a 

 devious uncertain route he took us to Bircheymoor, the 

 Held following in very listless straggling order. From 

 liere they ran smartly to Albrighton Hall, where he was 

 dodging about the garden evidently beaten, when 

 'I'hatcher became enamoured of a holla the Gubbalds 

 way, and, of course, fresh foxes were on foot here. One 

 at last got away, after being headed by a hunting 

 carriage and pair, and, turning aw^ay from Pimhill, 

 took us what would have been a good line if it had had 

 the important element of straightness about it, till we 

 found ourselves, after many turnings, near Leaton 

 Station, then back again among houses, gardens and 

 small inclosures, with the accompanying shouts of 

 many strong lungs that rendered hunting a farce and a 

 delusion ; towards Pimbill, which he eventually reached 

 despite the fact that a fresh fox appeared on the scene 

 from a little coppice en route. Here he gave up the 

 ghost and was eaten, much to my relief, as he was 

 anything but a straight-necked one. It was now 3-30 p.m.,. 



