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LEAVES FROM A IIUNTINC DIARY 



hounds all through the day, which was marked by another pleasing incident 

 — the election of the son of one of the oldest and staunchest supporters of 

 the Essex Hunt to membership in its club. Mr. Nevill Dawson has the 

 honour of being the most juvenile member, but as this does not involve 

 giving a champagne luncheon or turtle soup dinner to his seniors, he will 

 forgive my making allusion to the interesting fact. 



Nevill Dawson 



Parndon Woods, for the third time of asking, and that, too, within a 

 comparatively recent period, did not fail us, and this time a leash at least 

 were driven from its shelter. Mr. Green, who shoots these coverts, would 

 dearly like to see a Parndon fox killed. He tells me that a Parndon Wood 

 fox always did take a lot of killing, and the foxes that are there now are 

 pretty tough customers. They ring the changes so nicely that it will 

 surprise some of us very much if Bailey succeeds in brushing one without 

 the dog pack, a small afternoon field, and a real good scenting day. They 

 knew the country to Roydon, and Epping Lower Forest, Nasing Coppice, 

 to say nothing of Latton and Harlow Park, at any of which points they 

 can always rely upon a friend in need if pushed too hard. I don't bet, but 

 if Bailey succeeds in killing a Parndon Wood fox before Christmas Pll give 

 him a sovereign." 



* I had no occasion to part. — El). 



