1899] BARBED WIRE. 299 



Vickers], a visitor to cm- country, who finds no fence too big for her, and a 

 gallant soldier [Captain Dugdale], who always likes to be in the van and 

 usually is. 



"When thickest the fences and quickest the burst, 

 'Tis a hundred to one this soldier is first." 



It was a melancholy spectacle to see a leading spirit like this condemned to 

 walk sadly home by the side of his torn and bleeding horse, and shortly after- 

 wards to meet a fellow-sufferer garbed in a habit in equally evil case. 



" Now twist us your binders as strong as you will. 

 We must all take our chance of cropper or spill ; 

 Tliere are scores of young ashoH to stiffen the gaps, 

 And a blind double ditch is the surest of traps. 

 But remember, fair sportsmen fair usage require. 

 So up with the timber and down with the wire." 



One thing, too, farmers often forget. It is not the gap-jumpers and hedge- 

 breakers who get caught, but the leading spirits — the men whose horses jump 

 big and clean — the men whom, so the writer has often been assured by farmers, 

 the latter like to see riding boldly over the countr)'. It is a pity to kill the good 

 ones. Remember that 



" Here all are equal. No class legislation. 

 No prejudice hinders, no family pride. 

 In the image of war show tlie pluck of the nation. 

 Eide, ancient Patrician ! Democracy, ride ! " 



and give them a chance. Foster the one school which is left us, to engender 

 that spirit, which has made England what it is — that grand exercise ground for 



'' Tlie reason firm, the temperate will. 

 Endurance, foresiglit, strength, and skill." 



And all this has come out of two accidents. Bear with it, kindly readers, 

 " out of a full heart, the mouth speaketh," but the subject shall not be touched 

 on again — at any rate, not in this year of grace 1899. 



Saturday saw a small company hospitably received at Coton, and if any one 

 went away empty it was no fault of the host or hostess.* A bitter, black morning 

 took the place of the sunny previous days, and plunged us back into mid-winter 

 without giving us a scent to make up for it. But the master's arrangement for 

 the day proved a very happy one. For, finding a brace of foxes in the Fauld 

 Plaster Pit coverts, thanks to Mr. Shelly's careful earth stopping, hounds ran one 

 over a charming line of country towards Hanbury, but turned left-handed, and 

 ran over Mr. Shelly's farm, past Hareholes, over Mr. Foster's (another good 

 friend to foxes) to Blackbrook, where they turned left-handed past Mr. Snow's 

 house, and ran by Mr. Archer's, Castle Hayes. Here the fox turned short back, 

 as if he meant going back to the Plaster Pits, but, being headed by a man 

 ploughing, turned back, very short, and ran straight for liolleston, where the 

 park palings stood him in good stead by causing a check, which saved his brush. 

 Hounds never ran fast, and our fox twisted and turned a good bit, but everybody 

 enjoyed the fun, for thanks to the good farmers of Hanbury and neighbourhood, 

 there was not a fence which was not fair and jumpable anywhere. After drawing 

 the Forest Banks blank from the Greaves to Bank Top, they found a little vixen 

 in Tomlinson's Corner, who contrived to make herself scarce as soon as found, 

 and hounds went home, thus bringing a very enjoyable week's sport to an end. 



* Captain and Mrs. Dugdale. 



