136 THE BARB AND THE BRIDLE. 



jumping, with an occasional flight of rails, big enough to prove that 

 the fair equestrian's hunter can do a bit of timber clean and clever. 

 In fact, I know no coimtry I would as soon select for a young lady 

 to commence regular hunting in as that in the vicinity of Rugby. 

 Combe Abbey, Misterton, and Coton House are all sweetly English, 

 as well as thoroughly sporting places of meeting, and the truly 

 enjoyable trot or canter over the springy turf, which everywhere 

 abounds by the roadside in these localities, and makes the way to 

 covert so pleasant, has more than once been pronounced by hunting 

 critics to be more desirable than hunting itself in parts of England 

 where the road is all "Macadam," and the land plough, copiously 

 furnished with big flint stones, such as one sees in Hampshire. 

 Apropos of which charming country there is a sporting tale prevalent 

 in this real home of the hunter. 



A rich, middle-aged, single gentleman, a thorough enthusiast 

 about foxhunting, had a nephew, a very straight-going youngster, 

 who the "prophetic soul" of his uncle had decided should one day 

 be the man of the country in the hunting field, and second to 

 none over our biggest country ; and, to enable "Hopeful" to lead 

 the van, the veteran mounted him on horses purchased regardless 

 of expense. Furthermore, determined that no casualty in the way 

 of breaking his own neck should suddenly deprive his favourite 

 nephew of the golden sinews of the chase, the old Nimrod made a 

 very proper will, leaving all his large property to his fortunate 

 young relative. 



Things, indeed, looked rosy enough for our young sportsman. 

 Youth, health, wealth, a capital seat, and fine hands upon his horse, 

 any quantity of pluck, a thorough knowledge of hunting, and plenty 

 of the best horses to carry him — who could desire more? Alas 

 that it should be so ! even the brightest sunshine may become over- 

 cast — the fairest prospect be marred — by causes never dreamt of by 

 the keenest and most far seeing among us. 



At the termination of a capital season in the IVIidland, our 

 youngster, not content to let well alone, and, like that greedy boy 

 Oliver still "asking for more," unknown to his worthy uncle, 

 betook himself to the New Forest in Hampshire. 



