304 NIMROD S HUNTING TOUR 



room. We soon followed his example ; and a glass of gin punch 

 and an hour's gossip closed the evening of this day. 



Lord Mountsandford is a handsome young Irishman, educated 

 entirely in England, and therefore carries no mark of his country on 

 his tongue ; but his Lordship possesses the characteristic cheerful- 

 ness of his native land, and is what we call " a very good fellow." 

 He resides a great deal in Yorkshire, partly at Mr. Oliver's of 

 Darrington, and partly at Mr. Gascoigne's of Parlington, to both 

 of which gentlemen I believe he is related. 



Wednesday, 7th. — Met the Holderness hounds at White-cross, the 

 residence of a very wealthy yeoman by the name of Jackson, who 

 occupies a considerable property of his own, and resides in all the 

 comfort — I had nearly said luxury — of that station in life. Two 

 peculiar features mark the character of Mr. Jackson. First, he takes 

 under his roof, uninvited, any sportsman living at a distance, as also 

 his servant and horses, on the evening before hunting, when the next 

 day's fixture is near his house. Secondly, he gives a public break- 

 fast on the mornings on which the hounds meet at White-cross, 

 which is laid out in the true style of Old English hospitality. No 

 wonder, then, he is so highly esteemed by the gentlemen in his part 

 of the country, that they presented him with a handsome silver cup, 

 on which is an inscription, testifying it to be given to him as " a 

 slight mark of esteem for his universal kindness and unbounded 

 hospitality on all occasions that may occur." On the morning I am 

 speaking of he gave a most excellent breakfast to the field, and I had 

 the honour of wetting my lips in this cup. It was filled with capital 

 cherry-brandy (no bad jumping-powder in this country of drains), 

 which went down the better for looking at the inscription on the 

 outside. Long life to this man, and all of his sort ! said I to myself, 

 as I put the massive tankard to my lips. 



We had this day twenty minutes over the open, very fast, from 

 Catwick whin, and puggy, thinking it time to shift, got into a drain, 

 from which the hounds drew him, and were rewarded with his blood 

 for this business-like burst. It certainly was very quick — so much 

 so, that Captain Dowbiggin pronounced it the fastest twenty minutes 

 he had ever seen. We then partook of Mr. Bethell's hospitality, 

 who gave us a most excellent luncheon at his handsome seat at Kise, 



