ON HALLOING 



CHAPTER XXI 



AT the far corner of the covert sits a pink-clad 

 figure, astride a great raking chestnut. 

 Horse and man are motionless, eyes fixed 

 upon the wood inside of which hounds are draw- 

 ing for their fox. There is a whimper, quickly 

 swelling to a chorus, and there through the fence 



Gone Away. 



slips the object of the quest, black-tipped ears 

 cocked, and white-tagged brush held stiff as a 

 poker. Horse and man see it at the same instant, 

 but nothing happens until the fox has crossed the 

 first field. Then the pink-clad figure suddenly 

 comes to life, and a shrill view halloa rings out. 



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