1885] GOOD DAY FROM WALTON. 127 



minutes without a check, Mr. Levett-Princep tells us that he has plenty more 

 foxes, and all honour to him as a non-hunting man for his goodness ! So we 

 trot to the snug osier-bed, on Mr. Gorman's farm, at Edingale. Here three are 

 soon afoot — one pays the penalty of dwelling too long ; of the others, one bears 

 to the right, one to the left. We followed the latter, but unfortunately lost him 

 in Edingale village, so Catton Wood alone remains on that side the water, as 

 Drakelowe is not even yet shot, and at 1.30, at Catton, we find a fox destined to 

 stand before hounds for over two hours. Breaking covert on Dryden's Walk 

 side, this good fox passes the spot where so recently the funeral dirges of his 

 relatives were sung, and takes us to the left for Edingale ; but, leaving Edingale 

 on our right, we fly across the Pessale Brook, and the Eiver Mease, for Haunton. 

 Here we check for the first time, and the brook has thinned our numbers, the 

 master and huntsman, Mr. Gerald Hardy (going as pluckily as he did in the 

 Burton contest), Mr. R. Fort, Mr. A. Grossman, Fox, Col. Webb, Mr. F. Smith, 

 and half a dozen others are all that are visible. But the check is over, hounds 

 have hit it off by themselves ; past Biddle Farm and Dunimere we go again at 

 a rattling pace, and, being well into the Atherstone country, both master and 

 huntsman look as if blood would be doubly welcome, though twice tasted to-day. 

 With a holding, but not a racing scent, we now carry the line to Hogshill Farm, 

 and to Syrescote, and hopes are entertained that we may kill, as was the case 

 fifteen seasons back, at Amington, when Mr. Leigh entertained all the hunt ; but 

 no, it is not so to be ; our fox, evidently out of his latitude, misses every covert 

 at Statford, runs by the new farm buildings as if for Clifton Rough. Leaving 

 this untouched, this gallant fox passes Highfield Farm, and the hope conies o'er us 

 that in Clifton churchyard he will meet his doom ; but his bolt is not yet shot. 

 Our pace has, fortunately for tired horses, settled into a trot, and, leaving Clifton, 

 our fox heads for the Meynell country once more, and, crossing the Mease, gets 

 to Lullington. Here, evidently beaten, he threads every little spinny; but 

 inquiry tells us that the keeper, Hudson, viewed him ten minutes in front, and 

 the words of Fred Cotton rise to our minds, " Yo'll non ketch bowd Rejiiolds 

 to-noight." On he goes for Coton, and thence to Rosliston, in and out of nearly 

 every cottage and pigsty ; but patiently hounds work every inch out, and at 

 3.40, when pomting for Caldwell, it is given up ; though hounds were running true 

 as ever, " the shades of night were falling fast," and we may have changed ; 

 where it is difficult indeed to say, as we were never in a covert worthy the name, 

 and what adds to the glories of the day is that hounds were never once in the 

 two hours lifted, nor was huntsman's or master's horn once drawn from its case. 



Needwood. 



On Saturday, January 2nd, 1886, there was as good a 

 run as any one would wish to see, and one which those 

 who were in it talk of to this day. Capt. and Mrs. 

 Holland did not get back to Marchington till about 9.30. 



" Needwood" sent the following account to the Field : — 



. . . Though we could do no good with Mr. Gretton's foxes (at Drakelowe), it 

 was destined for Sir George Wilmot Horton to find as stout and straight a 

 varmint as ever stood before hounds. The hunting-cap of the Master, Mr. 



