3o8 Cross Country with Horse and Hound 



— are forgotten for the rest of the day, thanks to a 

 pleasant word. 



"Who wouldn't take a puppy," says Mrs. S., "for such 

 a nice gentleman ? " 



" Who would n't protect an earth with a litter of foxes 

 for such a man ?" says her worthy spouse. 



A young man from Boston, the hard-riding lad Arthur, 

 of whom the Master spoke, catches his eye. 



" Hello, Arthur ; what 's the matter ? You look sober. 

 Did the boys do you at cards last night ? Why the deuce 

 are you not looking after Miss Frances, you rascal ! Last 

 week, if I wanted to find you, I simply had to look for her." 



"Oh, pshaw! It 's all up with me," Arthur answers, 

 hardly. 



"The deuce it is ! I know a thing or two. By the way, 

 I 'm asking her mother to bring Frances over to dinner on 

 Wednesday. You are going to be my guest that day." 



-But I — " 



" Not a word, sir. I '11 entertain mamma, and you 

 shall have everything your own way, old boy ! There ! 

 Ride to your own line, and don't forget your failings. 

 Hold hard ! Hold hard ! And may the Lord have mercy 

 on your soul ! " 



The Master notes that the hour of eleven is at hand, and 

 prepares to mount his faithful old hunter, the Sheik. Just 

 then, however, he spies, standing aloof from the others and 

 half hidden by the great clump of evergreens, looking quite 

 sad and unhappy, a villager who for a good many years 

 has ridden to hounds as often as he can leave his business 

 in town. Gossip says Villager's wife has been flirting with 



