222 



LEAVES P^ROM A HUNTING DIARY 



had gone with the huntsman round the covert and those who had gone 

 through the yard of Weald Hall). 



Miss M. Buxton, Capt. Bruce, Ford Barclay, Arkwright and a few more, 

 were first, and half-a-dozen of them fumbling at a gate at the next fence, 

 ditch with rails beyond, which the welter-weight smashed, and the d— 1 take 

 the hindmost, was the cry, as the bitch pack tore along without a check, 

 until they reached the back of Horse Shoe Farm, where our friend had been 

 headed. Here he ran the meadows as far as the Cross Keys — Mr. Baker 

 opening his gate to let the excited throng through. Crossing the Thorn- 

 wood road, hounds were at it again, with a burning scent across Rickett's 



Miss C. Pelly on "Bishop" 



big field ; leaving it at the furthest corner, hounds piped along field after 

 field, till they threw up at the barrel drain at Maries Wood— a ripping 

 burst. Tyndale White voted the Colonel's '= horse a mile too slow. Miss 

 Barnes had the misfortune to have her horse drop dead in the middle of the 

 run, and Mr. Galloway, staying to assist, lost the good place he had main- 

 tained. Mrs. Crossman, on her pony, was at the tail of the hounds all the 

 way, and laying close up came Ford Barclay, D. Crossman, Miss M. Bux- 

 ton, Capt. Bruce, Mr. R. Waltham, and the welter-weight, Mr. Fitch, of 

 Romford. 



* Colonel Lockwood's roan horse. 



