FARMING AND FOXHUNTING 



side on and rolled him over pony and all, and that 

 was the end of the last game of polo played at 

 Burderop. Luckily everybody escaped with a bad 

 shaking. 



To finish the tale of Satan, the polo pony, he 

 eventually got sold to a club at Porlock ; the man 

 who bought him was a strong horseman. Satan 

 really was a fine pony, full of courage, but on occasion 

 got you into trouble unless you just knew him. 



My friend Bill Withycombe invited me down to 

 Minehead one summer during the polo season, and 

 incidentally with an eye to business a game of polo 

 was fixed up at Porlock. In those days the much 

 more fashionable Dunster Lawn Club had not 

 started, but I presume it grew out of the one at 

 Porlock. By the by, I know of no finer site for a 

 game of polo than the Dunster Lawn. The game 

 itself is one that I place well to the fore in all sporting 

 events, and to play it on Dunster Lawns in that fine 

 setting is a real pleasure. It has been my good 

 fortune to get a few games on this famous ground. 

 But to return to the day at Porlock : the great Frank 

 Rich was present with an eye to picking up a good 

 pony or two. Satan was putting up a good show 

 and Frank thought he would like to give him a trial, 

 and thereupon got mounted to play the next chukka. 

 All went well until he too got hold of the ball when 

 playing back, and came down the field at a hard 

 gallop, struck a goal, rode on through the goal-posts 

 straight out of the field-gate and got half-way to 

 Minehead before he could pull him up. I am 

 afraid Satan never got the honour of being played 



38 



