FOX AND HOUND 



their shoulders, and those who have the office look 

 out, when luncheon time is nigh, for the hospitable 

 red flag with the white star in the centre, which 

 flies as a token at the top of a private omnibus 

 from Lytham. Half the point of the meet of 

 Northend was lost this year by the absence of the 

 house party from Groxteth, and we might well long 

 to see the four dark chestnuts dash up in the green 

 drag as of yore, with the Earl of Sefton on the 

 box. It seems but the other day that his father 

 was riding ofi* across country to Groxteth, to tell 

 of his Sackcloth^s victory. 



•The march of the cracks round and round the 

 farm paddock is one of the most beautiful sights. We 

 have noted there — before the first couple were called, 

 and the hare-boys (looking like tortoises erect) started 

 on their march — the shining bridle of Streamer, the 

 dark black of the great bitch corps — Spider, old 

 Belle of the Village, Rebe, and Reliance \ the blue 

 of Goodareena ; the fawn of Sea Rock ; the red 

 of Monarch and Sea Girl; while the brindle on 

 the tail deftly told the diff*erence between the flying 

 whites of Liverpool, Mr. Spinks's Sea Pink and 

 Sea Foam. 



* A quarter past ten, and there is no time to lose ; 

 off* comes Mr. Warwick's overcoat, and he mounts 

 a good-looking grey. Requiem and Morning Dew 

 are in the slips, but three hares get away before 

 Raper gets a slip to his mind. It was a bad begin- 



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