FOX-HUNTING 



leans outward from the hedge, somewhat about breast 

 high. This large fence is taken by all now with the 

 hounds — some to the right and some to the left of the 

 direct line ; but the little bay horse would have no 

 more of it. Snob puts him twice at it, and manfully 

 too ; but the wind is out of him, and he has no power to 

 rise. Several scrambles, but only one fall, occur at 

 this rasper, all having enough of the killing pace ; and 

 a mile and a half further, the second horses are fallen 

 in with, just in the nick of time. A short check from 

 the stain of sheep makes everything comfortable ; and, 

 the Squire having hit off his fox like a workman, 

 thirteen men out of two hundred, are fresh mounted, 

 and with the hounds, which settle to the scent again at 

 a truly killing pace. 



' *'Hold hard, Holyoake ! " exclaims Mr. Osbaldes- 

 ton (now mounted on Clasher), knowing what double- 

 quick time he would be marching to, with fresh pipes 

 to play upon, and the crowd well shaken off; ''pray 

 don't press 'em too hard, and we shall be sure to kill 

 our fox.^ Have at him there ^ Abigail and Fickle, good 

 bitches— see what a head they are carrying ! I'll bet a 

 thousand they kill him." The country appears better 

 and better. ** He's taking a capital line," exclaims Sir 

 Harry Goodricke, as he points out to Sir James Mus- 

 grave two young Furrier hounds, who are particularly 

 distinguishing themselves at the moment. ** Worth 



1 One peculiar excellence in Mr. Osbaldeston's hounds was their steadiness 

 under pressure by the crowd. 



25 



