^6 HUNTING AND SPOBTING NOTES. 



fox is safe, and probably it will be his turn next to rattle 

 bim back over this superb line into Sir Watkin's country. 

 The run was thirty-five minutes, or perhaps a bit more, 

 and crowned the day with another feather in the cap of 

 my dear old friend Ash Gorse, and its fidus Achates — Mr. 

 Frank Cotton. 



NINTH WEEK, Decembek 21st to 26th. 



The past week has been a full one. A green Christmas 

 lias been vouchsafed to us, and the boys, home for tbe 

 holidays, have had a rare time of it. 



Monday, the 21st, at Frees Station, was one of those 

 bright balmy days that this capricious climate of ours 

 sometimes brings- us in mid winter; when a great coat is 

 an incumbrance, and the air breathes light and joyous. 

 A conglomeration of Sir Watkin's and Cheshire men 

 came to swell the happy throng that were soon put 

 sharply on the move from Lacon Gorse, on the Coton side 

 of the railway. Getting very well away with their fox 

 the hounds raced straight past Frees village. The line 

 is a stiff one, and the railway throws you out of gear. 

 Few, consequently, enjoyed this cjuick thing to perfection 

 before the fox was pulled down, in fifteen minutes, near 

 the village. 



Twemlows was the inevitable second draw, and a fox 

 was viewed away over the heath, hounds moving prettily 

 to Ightfield, where they checked, and Thatcher held them 

 back to the Twemlows. Here, after some more drawing, 

 a fox or foxes kept them going in a veiy round-about in 

 and out sort of fashion, for two hours, till all were tired 

 except the foxes, who lived to fight — let us hope a 

 straighter fight — another day. Opinions differed about 

 the day — some said, pretty good, others the reverse. 



On Tuesday, the 22nd, I understood Mr. Corbet had a 

 good day from Adderley, notwithstanding the fog. A 



