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owning houses, to my mind. You can't 

 ride 'em, and they won't jump a country. 

 Tastes differ, and a good job too. 



But to return to the hunting. I re- 

 member a funny thing happening one 

 day to Dale and myself. We were walk- 

 ing over a high arched old brick bridge, 

 going to draw Buslingthorpe Wood. 

 When on the top the old bridge broke 

 in, and we all went splash into the 

 water with eight or nine couple of 

 hounds. My word, what a clatter and 

 a splash there was! I came out of the 

 water and dibris with his horse one 

 side, and he came out with mine the 

 other. Nobody hurt much, though, and 

 it's all in the fun. Dale got very few 

 falls, but pretty bad ones when he did ; 

 always stuck on as long as he could, if 

 it was in a brook-bottom. 



I remember one morning he came to 



