THE KIND SAMARITAN I 59 



Sir Henry would like to have heard that opening note and the crash of 

 merry music that followed it as hounds raced their fox round the covert. 

 Never had a field a fairer chance of getting away, for hounds ran three more 

 coverts before they struck the open near Matching Hall. This was passed 

 on the left, and the field became rapidly scattered before Matching Park 

 was reached ; and many a horse was ditched. A welcome check enabled a 

 hot and glowing throng to reunite and seek the middle ride of the Park. 

 Running in the direction of Belgium Springs, as we crossed the road, 

 one man unfortunately came to serious grief, and Mr. R. Hill, acting the 

 kind Samaritan, lost the run. The chase now sped on over a capital line 

 of country and fences of every description, want of condition as much as 

 anything else accounting for the numerous empty saddles. On through 

 Belgium Springs and the going became much heavier, luckily the pace a 

 bit slower ; and this capital run was brought to a conclusion at Harlow 

 Park, good point, good country, and nice pace. Time, i hour and 35 

 minutes. From Parndon Woods, where we found, on Saturday, November 

 17th, when we met at North Weald, we went at a rattling pace from 

 the Woods to the Coppice and Deer Park, disturbing a shooting party 

 in Galley Hills. Going out at the bottom end and over towards Mr. Bury's, 

 a great many being left in the lurch — not Mr. C. E. Green, however, 

 for he shortly afterwards got down. Running by Tattle Bushes this good 

 run came to an end by Pinnacles. 



Leaving home at i p.m. on Wednesday, November 28th, after a stern 

 chase from Down Hall, I caught hounds at Brick Kilns and dropped in for 

 a pretty burst by Enviles up to Beauchamp Roothing, the following being 

 among the lucky few who saw anything of it : Mrs. Waters, Messrs. C. and 

 F. Green, Mr. Arkwright, Messrs. Chisenhale Marsh, Walmsley, Jones 

 and Lawrence. They will remember how the rain came down when the 

 run was over. 



Christmas Eve with the Essex Hounds in 1888 was not quite so good 

 as 1887, but still worthy of being jotted down in a diary and recalled with 

 pleasure when, from age, accident, or impecuniosity, one may be prevented 

 from participating in the stirring pleasures of the chase. I have but a faint 

 notion of the country we traversed ; but I know that about 2.30 p.m., when 

 a good many had gone home to roost, an eager throng were clustered in 

 the middle of Canfield Hart, for it had been whispered that a fox had been 

 seen to enter scarce an hour previous. He was no trifler, and waited not 

 to be found, but left the covert at one end while hounds were drawing the 

 other — luckily not unobserved. 



A score of lusty lungs proclaimed his departure and thirty horses cleared 

 the boundary out of the wood, as hounds owned to it on the grass, ran 

 hard for three fields, and came, to a check. A rapid cast of Bailey's, and 

 we were all sailing away in the wake of hounds again as they crossed a 

 road and embarked on the grass beyond. There was scarce time to choose 

 which way you would go— left with hounds, huntsman, Mr. Walmsley and 

 one or two others, or right with the surging throng down an inviting lane 

 on the right of some iron palings. The latter seemed most tempting, but 

 soon led to a locked gate. One sportsman (Mr. Ritchie, I believe, of Kildare 

 renown) solved the difficulty at once by flying a stiff hedge, and jumping 

 another gate immediately afterwards ; and got to the hounds as soon as 

 anyone. The remainder got a glimpse now and then of Bailey's cap as he 

 cleared the fences, but could not catch hounds before they reached W^ilson 

 Springs and came to a slight check. 



Turning a bit to the left, through a narrow plantation, and crossing a 

 moat by a bridge, an awkward fence came in the line. Again the stranger 



