THE nOUHLK DITCH I'.V MAN WOOD 31/ 



a Stopper, but jack, squeezing himself up like a well -trussed 

 fowl, showed how it might be done in twice without breaking 

 your head or a knee-cap, and we had Norwood on our right, 

 and hounds going straight through both the coverts of 

 Envilles. 



Crossing the road near Rookvvood Hall, twenty-five 

 minutes from the start, hounds went into Brick Kilns with 

 a chorus ; and first in the van was the cumiing young man * 

 (I called him old last time, but I hate personalities) that rode 

 on the young grey mare, every yard of I)rick Kilns, every 

 yard of Man Wood. Never stopping for a second, but hunting 

 out every inch of his line, hounds pushed him out from 

 the latter, and into the laiic by tjic double ditch. The hunts- 

 man knew it. and had it. Air. Charrington didn't, but took 

 it, and went into the opposite ditch ; and Captains P)ruce and 

 Tufnell, with a few others, got over with varying success- - 

 while some, shall I relate it ? — 



For a place they liked better they hastened to seek, 

 But the place' they liked better they sought for in vain ; 



And they honestly owned that, had hounds gone the pace, 

 They scarce would have seen them on that day again. 



Down the muddy lane or over the brook if you liked, 

 with Captain Tufnell. Hounds drove steadily on for Row 

 Wood, the plough riding well and the fences presenting no 

 difficulties ; through the wood and out to Cammas Hall 

 Springs they forced their beaten fox, but he managed to 

 struggle back to Row Wood, where this good run of seventy 

 minutes was practically over, for with no scent in the covert 

 they couldn't dislodge him. Nearly all but the two horsemen 

 had had enough, and not more than twenty stayed for the 

 evening gallop from Down Hall with a twisting fox to Man 

 Wood and back ; the old line losing none of its charm in 

 the repetition of a good hunting run. 



Notes upon Parish Councils would be very appropriate just now. 

 The air is full of nothing else. Oh ! what a tale I could unfold of nomina- 

 tion papers rejected, of candidates elected by beardless youths, anticipating 

 with a vengeance universal suffrage, when even the infant muling and 

 puking in the nurse's arms shall have a vote ; but the chairman's nod is 

 infallible. 



But many a hunting man must be pining for the sweet simplicity, the 

 real rusticity, the calm repose of villages like Creslow, a few miles from 

 Aylesbury (is it not in the celebrated Vale ?), where there is only a single 

 elector on the register. 



This is Mr. W. R. Rowland, landowner and farmer, who, having duly 

 called the meeting at his own fireside, nominated himself chairman of the 



Georgie Dawson. 



