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LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



hunter, a six-year-old, belonging to and bred by Mr. Green, of Tods Brook, 

 which is as bold as a lion and clever as a cat — got over at once, and also 

 over the next fence, which was a very awkwark one — a run up hill on 

 to a narrow bank, and a yawning wide ditch on the far side. 



Bailey, in the meantime, hit off a place a bit lower down, and he and 

 the half-dozen who got over the brook had the rest of the gallop to them- 

 selves, for by the time the others came up the fun was over, the termination 

 being brought about apparently by a hare jumping up in view on the line 

 and the hounds coursing her for a field before they were stopped. Certainly 



Newman Sparrow 



after this the hne was never touched again. However, we all had a 

 capital gallop of 45 minutes, making a very good point, having run close 

 to Felsted, and losing our fox near Leighs Priory. 



We now settled down to a good long jog back to Canfield Thrift, another 

 grand covert. What a debt of gratitude we all owe to those who have the 

 care and ownership of these three magnificent coverts — Garnetts, Canfield 

 Thrift and Canfield Hart. I believe none of them have been drawn blank 

 this season. Canfield Thrift has certainly not. The nearest way to it lay 

 through Mr. Sparrow's yard, who, in the most hospitable way, provided 

 refreshments for us all. Nothing goes down better than bread-and-cheese 



