78 Seventy Years a Master. 



a dead-beaten fox down just as he was crawling 

 into Weston Wood. 



During Bob Ward's time we were one day 

 having a very good run indeed, and they were 

 running beautifully down by Maddingly. Bob 

 was just in front of me, and we came down to 

 a thinnish hedge with a brook on the landing 

 side. Over he went, but his horse blundered 

 into the brook. I followed, and when I 

 jumped off and ran back to him, old Bob 

 was lying right between his horse's hind 

 legs, and with his own legs all tangled up in 

 the reins. 



It was a ticklish predicament to be in, and 

 I whipped out my knife and started to cut the 

 reins lialf-way down, to free him. Bob was 

 watching me. To my amazement he calmly 

 remarked : 



'' Hold on a minute. Muster. Cut 'em 

 close to the bit. Then I can have 'em stitched 

 again." 



It was just a toss-up whether I could 

 release him before he got a kick on the head 



