THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 37 



ever, I kept my line ; and, if I remember right, the next 

 fence was nothing only a gate, a stiff one, to be sure ; 

 but young ones are always good at timber that is to say, 

 if they will but look at it. 



" Now the pace soon began to tell ; for the country 

 rode infernally deep, and there was no getting a nick by 

 a turn, as the fox went straight on end. There were not 

 more than eight or ten of the field very near to the 

 hounds, and no one exactly on their line. In fact, I saw 

 plainly how things were going. Puggy was facing the 

 cream of the country, and I said to myself, ' We are in for 

 a tickler.' 



" I began to be sorry, however, that I was riding my 

 five-year-old ; indeed, I meant to have had him as my 

 second horse, and I must say my groom advised me to do 

 so. However, there was nothing to be done, now, but to 

 let him go ; and as I only gave two hundred for him, at 

 Newmarket, I thought I might try what he was made of 

 at once. You know, Mr. Raby, it's no use keeping horses 

 at Melton merely to look at ; consequently, if they are 

 good for nothing, we send them at once to the hammer. 

 We let them try their luck in the provincials, when they 

 cannot live over the grass. 



" The next fence was a bulfinch, as black as " (Here 

 Mr. Somerby was interrupted by Frank asking his father 

 what was meant by a " bulfinch fence ; " but his father 

 was unable to answer the question) " The next fence," 

 resumed Mr. Somerby, " was a bulfinch fence, as black 

 and as dark as the shades below : you could not, indeed, 

 have seen through it with a lantern. Then as to what 

 there might be on the other side, Heaven knew, but I did 

 not. I only guessed there was a yawning ditch, and very 

 likely a stiff rail to boot. But what was to be done ? The 

 hounds were going the top of the pace no time to turn 

 to the right or to the left ; two fellows nearer to them 

 than I was (didn't like that, you know, Francis, eh '?) and 

 Cecil Forester, close behind me, roaring out, ' Go along, 

 sir, for God's sake ! ' so at it I went. It was a rasper 

 ('a rasper ." exclaimed Frank, but only in hearing of his 

 father), surely, and I cannot say I was sorry when I found 

 myself well landed in the next field. Our party was now 

 becoming select. There were only five of us right well 

 with the hounds ; and although many were near, some 

 were already beaten, and some noichere. But, to be sure, 



