no Reminiscences of a 



old." I suddenly remembered that the horse I thought he 

 was had a twitch mark on his right ear, and looked for it — 

 it was there. So 1 says " I know ' him,' and I think that 

 he knows me." I held up my hand, and he came at me like 

 a tiger with his ears back, and that satisfied me, as it was 

 an old complaint of his when he was teased. " Why," I 

 said, "it's old 'Dragon,' and he's nineteen!" He carried 

 me as second whipper-in one season after this, and part of 

 another, when he broke down, and I shot him — as good and 

 game a horse as ever looked through a bridle. He was 

 twenty-two when I shot him, poor old fellow, and one of the 

 hardest pullers I ever rode. He would have hold of the 

 bridle, and if you slacked his head you couldn't tell where 

 either he or you were going. 



There was no finer sportsman than Dr. Wells in the 

 Vale of White Horse country. One day when we were in 

 the Braydon country and passing the Doctor's house a bitch 

 called "Wanton," by the " Fitzwilliam Somerset," caught 

 sight of a pet fox chained up, and promptly killed it. I said 

 to Worrall, " blessed if old ' Wanton ' hasn't killed the 

 Doctor's tame fox ! " He said, " there '11 be the devil to 

 pay ! " Next morning comes a letter from the Doctor, as 

 follows : — " Dear Worrall, what devils your hounds are, they 

 killed my tame vixen to-day ; would not have had it happen 

 for £100." 



Next time " Wanton " was out on that side of the 

 country, up came the Doctor at the meet and said, " have 

 you that old devil out that killed my vixen ? " Worrall said 

 "there she is," and the Doctor said, "by God, she looks 

 like killing anything " ; and he wasn't far wrong, for when 

 she was out with some whelps in the summer following, 

 one of the kennel cats came rather too near her and she 

 "chawed" it up in a twinkUng ! 



