120 Seventy Years a Master. 



everybody rode right on top of them, and 

 Tom, being a little behind, saw in a minute 

 what had happened. He came galloping up 

 and sang out : — 



" Ah ! That's right gentlemen. Bide right 

 over them. Drive 'em over it. Go on, spoil 

 your own sport. They hunt as well again if 

 you ride over them. Then go home and say the 

 huntsman and the hounds are good for nothing." 



I can quite understand how vastly relieved 

 poor old Tom would feel after such an out- 

 burst. But he was perfectly right. 



Some day it must happen to every hunts- 

 man that he will be honoured by having 

 "' Mr. Cunning " out with him, on a horse that 

 he has not the faintest idea of riding or 

 managing. He will bring his horse in 

 amongst your hounds, no matter how many 

 polite warnings you give him. His horse 

 keeps looking and snorting. 



'' Mind your horse, sir ! Take him away. 

 He'll kick one directly." 



'' Oh, no. He's all right," comes the 

 exasperating answer, and ten to one 



