CRIPPLED. 81 



tions that never come before one who is riding but these are 

 as much the property of the actors as is their own home life. 



A mere passing statement, however, is quite admissible, to 

 wit, Under no other circumstances is the conviction brought so 

 forcibly home, that by no means every man who goes out hunt- 

 ing is a foxhunting enthusiast while it becomes equally appa- 

 rent that a certain number don't care about foxhunting at all. 

 If such people had only a fair share of moral courage, they 

 would surely consult their own pleasure most and attain all 

 their ends if they rode home directly Reynard is afoot, and 

 when the mere social preliminaries of the day are at an end. 

 All after that must be to them a constant battle with self, a 

 prolonged mental trial to be renewed next day and the day 

 after. Apart from these good people, another prominent 

 (though, perhaps, again not very novel) fact pushes itself before 

 the straining, longing eyes of the involuntary idler. Two or 

 three hundred people ride where hounds have gone, or some- 

 where in that direction. How many of these see a hound at 

 all, when hounds are really running ? Not tweuty. Often not 

 iive. The rest bar a few thwarted competitors have been 

 ' well in it," for have they not been close at hand as the pack 

 threw up, and were they not ready to play follow-my-leader 

 again at a moment's notice ? This is one of the boons that a 

 strongly-fenced country confers on its patrons. Their minds 

 find so many distractions in the task set them, that they can 

 afford to sink many considerations (elsewhere essential), in the 

 struggle to keep their heads above water. They are for the 

 most part content to cut and thrust, as the blade of a fugleman 

 flashes before them. The carvers belong to one of two classes 

 the ambitious novice or the skilled bruiser. The former goes 

 through the mill either to emerge as a failure, or to tone down 

 to a grade that mingles daring with experience. Another, a 

 bastard carver, there is too ; who can ride a line of gates " at 

 the top o' the hunt," and square his elbows at a gap as fiercely 

 as a gendarme points his moustaches. 



But our business lies up the road, beyond the railway station 



