A STEAIGHT-NECKED CUB 269 



almost double, I ranged alongside liim once more. I 

 did not deign a reply ; but the day was still young ; and 

 upon more than one occasion I have known " the man 

 who laughed last to laugh most heartily." 



" Bravest little owd vox as ever broke covert," cries a 

 burly yeoman in quaint East Anglian dialect, as he goes 

 bumping along on a thick-set cob towards a convenient 

 gap. It is a game cub we are hunting, in all truth, and 

 had one not viewed him away it would be easy to 

 imagine that an old dog-fox was running before hounds. 



By Jove ! what a thundering smasher the man on the 

 flea-bitten grey has come, through his mount breasting 

 the big bank yonder, and pitching him neck and crop into 

 the lane beyond. 'Tis soft falling, thanks to the mud, 

 however, and beyond an extra coating of good old- 

 fashioned loam the unseated sportsman is but little the 

 worse for his fall ; and, having got into the saddle again, 

 away he scurries to make up lost ground. Such a head 

 are hounds carrying that they have scarcely given tongue 

 since breaking covert ; but while running past a picturesque 

 ivy-clad manor house, nestling amongst its trim privet- 

 hedged pleasure grounds and gardens, such a glorious 

 clash of music breaks the silence of the morning that the 

 inhabitants of the old house are awakened from their 

 slumbers ; and some of the younger and keener-sighted 

 followers of the hunt catch a momentary glimpse of 

 " charming creations " (I believe that is the correct term) 

 of cambric and dainty laces through the openings of the 

 window curtains. 



