66 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



Over the first field and over the first fence all went well, 

 but the next half-mile was down some old pasture-land, with 

 falling ground. Hounds were running as if tied to their fox ; 

 nothing held them for even a moment ; the pace increased, 

 and Marmion was getting his head down ; the horse was 

 blessed — or as his multifarious riders had always considered, 

 cursed — with a fine flow of exuberant spirits, and despite 

 Sir Tommy's best endeavours, he quickly got his head almost 

 between his forelegs, and then let go such a succession of bucks 

 and kicks, straight from his powerful loins, as first shifted, 

 and then at last ' boosted ' poor Tommy clean out of the 

 saddle. He fell with that horribly unpleasant ' wump '' 

 which almost shakes the teeth out of your head — fell flat on 

 his back, whilst the proud animal, who didn't seem to have 

 even missed him, galloped straight on, landing over the next 

 fence — a thick blackthorn — right on top of about half-a-dozen 

 hounds as they turned sharply right-handed up the hedge- 

 row. The fallen rider's discomfiture was a thousandfold 

 increased, as on his ears broke the dismal howling of the 

 maimed hounds, mingled with a volley of ' cuss-words,' 

 hurled at his devoted head by Will, as he galloped furiously 

 past him. 



" Ar'm blessed if that brute didn't oughter to be shot ! It's 

 the same beauty " (only Will didn't say " beauty ") " that run 

 away last Toosday wi' that fat, tailor-looking man — little 

 Johnny Gilpin, a' call 'im. Ar b'lieve now as they must be 

 the new people oop at The Chase — and be d — d to 'em ! " 

 he added, as he flew the fence before him. 



Sir Tommy sat upon the ground, and looked around him. 

 At a little distance from where he was, the whole field went 



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