THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 55 



"I say, old chap, I believe you've broken his back," he 

 said, solemnly. 



"Is — is — is — that a serious thing, do you think?" asked 

 Trousers, his teeth rattling in his head like castanets. 



"Well," answered Jack, "killing's rather fatal, ain't it?" 

 whilst Ben, up to his knees in mire, supporting the poor 

 beast's head to keep him from drowning, could not repress a 

 laugh at poor Binkie's verdant innocence. 



" How's he fast ? " enquired Jack of the Whipper-in. 



" Got his hind legs right down in the stuff, sir, and it do 

 hold 'em, there's no mistake. Did they kill, sir? " 



"Yes; and I expect Will and Tom and the hounds'll be 

 back this way directly. They'll give us a hand ; but you'll 

 have to stop there till they come, for if you let go his head 

 I'm blest if he won't commit suicide," exclaimed Jack. 



Five minutes passed, during which poor ' Trousers ' got 

 colder and colder, and he asked his friend plaintively if he 

 didn't think he could get a cab — they were five miles from 

 everywhere — to take him home ? And then, to Ben's great 

 relief, and Jack's joy, Will and his subordinate turned up on 

 their journey kennelwards. The Huntsman's quick eye soon 

 took in the situation, and he said to Ben — 



"That's right; keep his head up, and Tom must ride 

 over to that cottage there and borrow a spade. Ask them two 

 hedgers-and-ditchers to come over and lend a hand, too, Tom, 

 and tell 'em to look sharp about it ; it's time this 'oss was got 

 out; he won't improve by keepin', you know, in this place." 



And almost before he had finished speaking, Tom Tribe 

 was shaking and heeling his tired horse over towards the 

 cottage indicated, telling the two hedgers the need of their 



