BLITHFIELD. 165 



day in the woods." The rides are deep, it is true; but you 

 need not stick to the rides, if your horse is handy. And, 

 if he is not, a gallop through the trees, with unexpected 

 ditches confronting him every minute, will soon make 

 him so. With a scent it is rare fun. Without one it is 

 not so good, as hounds divide and give no end of trouble. 

 The deer, too, are a source of annoyance, especially in 

 cub-hunting time, when the leaf is on, for then even the 

 old hounds are apt to indulge in a romp with the forbidden 

 game when no one can see what they are up to. Like a 

 great many other people, they are only good when they 

 have to be. Woodland foxes, too, take a lot of catching, 

 and, when they have had enough of the woods, they are 

 off to the park, where scent always lies ; but what is the 

 good of that, when hounds run best pace to the foot of a 

 giant oak, and stand with their tongues out, looking 

 foolish, while their quarry chuckles inside. Sometimes 

 you can spy him high up in the fork of the tree. But, 

 even if you dislodge him thence, you do not alw^ays catch 

 him. Both Tom Leedham, who would never go into the 

 woods on a very windy day, and his nephew Charles, were 

 quite at home in them, and their splendid voices were of 

 great service. With the exception of Colonel Chandos-Pole 

 there never was a quicker man through the woods than 

 Charles, and there was not much to choose between them. 

 They both had the knack of keeping going without pulling 

 their horses about. 



Then there is Duckley Wood, the Square or Rhodo- 

 dendron Covert, Stansley Wood, the Gardens, Blithfield 

 and Newton Gorse, all good holding coverts, in the middle 

 of a capital country, go which way they may, with no 

 danger of wire and the best of gates to open, all over the 

 Blithfield estates, and now that ill-health keeps the owner 

 of it out of the saddle so that he cannot participate in 

 the sport himself, how grateful we feel to him for his 

 unselfish goodwill. 



To turn to the sport of the year 1844, which would 

 seem to have been a first-rate season. 



