180 Seventy Years a Master. 



world, because without the joys of the Chase 

 some of the good friends I have known will, 

 I am quite sure, be far from happy. 



Let the old man recall them as they occur 

 to him, and some of the memories that their 

 faces conjure up again. There was Fred 

 Hogg, who will be remembered by many of 

 my readers. A good man, and one who was 

 never happier than when he was out with us. 

 I can plainly see him now as he came to the 

 meet one morning, in the beginning of the 

 season. The old gentleman had donned a new 

 red coat, and with top hat, glossy boots, and 

 gloves, he was every inch a sportsman. ^' Got 

 up to the nines," as we used to say. He was 

 riding a grey mare, and after we had found 

 and had been running nicely for some time, I 

 met him under the wall at Stratford, near 

 Sandy, and, oh dear ! how his glory had 

 departed. I do not think that in all my life, 

 and with all my experience of many and 

 various spills, I ever saw a man in quite such 

 a pickle. He was covered with black, slimy 

 mud, from head to feet. 



