ALREADY. 4/ 



weigh with well, more than two of the three hundred sports- 

 men usually composing a field in the Shires. They will all 

 brave mud and dishevelment, when they are obliged. But not 

 a little of that acumen which enables them to be left behind 

 three times out of four at Barkby Holt and similar deep-rided 

 coverts, is due less to their estimate of probabilities or their 

 knowledge of woodcraft than to the fact that they don't see the 

 fun of being splashed and bedaubed before a fox is even found. 

 Why should they ? Not for my pleasure nor for yours do they 

 go a' foxhunting. Not every one of them gnashes his teeth, or 

 makes himself unpleasant for the day to all with whom he 

 comes in contact, because he has thus been left behind. If a run 

 has been enacted, it does not leave him on one verge or other 

 of insanity either rabid with delight over what he has seen 

 and shared, or frantic with rage and shame in that he has 

 missed the chance. No, he maintains " a sane mind in a whole 

 body " by abstaining from rash endeavours or undue excitement. 

 He enjoys every moment of the day or goes home as soon as 

 it begins to bore him has an amiable smile and a good story 

 for everybody (especially, I notice, just as hounds find their 

 fox), is a pleasanter companion at dinner and can give a much 

 more reliable account of the day's sport than young Thruster, 

 who is incoherent with sparkling delight over having " cut out 

 the work," or who is striving dismally to drown the memory of 

 having taken a wrong turn and been thrown " clean out of 

 it." Wisdom and complacency or a strong mania and a hot 

 enthusiasm. Which should be a foxhunter's birthright ? 

 Which are embodied in Mr. Bromley-Davenport's stirring lines, 



glory of youth, consolation of age ! 

 Sublimest of ecstasies under the sun ! 



On Tuesday and Wednesday of the present week Leicester- 

 shire may be said to have lived under water. Every ditch was 

 a flooded stream, every grassy furrow was like a snipe marsh, 

 every valley was a lake. Snow fell heavily on Tuesday ; and 

 was still to be seen lying crisp under the green hedges, when 



