i6 FOX-HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS 



The heavy man who funks the stiles, 

 And shudders at the name of Miles. 



Such is the fate of mortal man, 

 Where Gilmour ended, Miles began, 

 And Miles in turn must yield his sway, 

 For every dog shall have his day." 



Another fine horseman was Captain Little 

 (the Josey Little of Chandler fame), always 

 ready for a gallop. It was whispered about, that 

 once upon a time he had ridden gallantly to a 

 single hound who raced away on a line by him- 

 self for five minutes, when the Captain jumped 

 on the hound, killed him on the spot, and his 

 private run came to an untimely end. I presume 

 he had long since expiated that offence, for he 

 was frequently out with the hounds in my time. 



An excellent sportsman was Granville Somer- 

 set, Q.C. (widely known as the Doctor), who 

 hunted there every winter; a short, stout man 

 with a pleasant countenance, who wore an 

 unusual number of waistcoats, and was devoted 

 to the Chase — generally a stern chase for him. 



We often went together to hunt on Exmoor 

 with the Devon and Somerset staghounds. 



Dulverton, Porlock, and Minehead were our 

 various headquarters, and we sometimes stayed 

 with our mutual friend the Master of the Pack, 

 Mr. Fenwick Bissett, at Bagborough, near 



