T. R. HULL 



155 



slamming in your faces, Messrs. Jones and Hull, I admit was hard luck, for 

 each second put a brace more pursuers between you and the pack. Like a 

 cascade, hounds came over the bank into the Moreton-road, near the stone 

 bridge, and immediately hit off the line on the grass beyond, on Roden's 

 Bank. Here a lot of us wilfully — I might almost say wickedly — shut 

 ourselves out from view and touch of hounds by deliberately bearing 

 left-handed up the road to Padler's End, but a muddy lane at the top of the 

 hill brought us more luck than we deserved, and let us up to the van again, 

 who were following the Master's lead over a high wattled fence and ditch 

 into the muddy lane, where an awkward fence and brook barred the way — 

 the very spot, if I remember right, where Mr. G. E. Green got in with his 

 good grey mare in a memorable run from the Lower Forest — Mr. Marriage, 

 of ready resource, lifted a gate off its hinges, and found a ford. 



'•••^ ^_ '^B^^Hb^^^Ba^^_^ /^ 



Thomas Read Hull on "Marigold' 



Hull is as well known with the stag as the foxhounds, 

 o-ood supporter of both, making them very welcome 



T. R. 



and is a ^ ^ ^ 



over his land at Blackmore. He is the right weight for a long 

 run, or a quick thing with staghounds when the ground is deep: 

 he is not an easy man to follow, and is a very difficult one 

 to catch when the pace is good, for he smokes litde and drinks 

 less, and has undeniable nerve ; his son takes after him. 



