THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 107 



happened that, by a lucky turn, Goodall, and a hard- 

 riding parson of that time, arrived first at the brook, and 

 the parson took it in his stroke. Neither did Goodall 

 intend doing otherwise. Taking a good pull at Pineapple 

 (for such was his horse called, in consequence of the deep 

 scoring of his legs, by some merciless operator, with the 

 firing irons) at about a hundred yards from its banks, he 

 sent him manfully at it, but by not extending himself far 

 enough, he dropped short, and fell backwards, with his 

 rider under him, into the stream ! 



" He is m, by heavens," exclaimed Hargrave, who saw 

 the mishap, " and the parson has it all to himself." 



" He'll be smothered," said Frank Rabv ; " what's to be 

 done?" 



"Not he," resumed Hargrave, "he's clear of his horse; do 

 you go quick at the brook to the right, and I'll go to the left. 



No sooner said than done ; both charged it and got over, 

 and six more of the field did the same thing ; but it was 

 a trial of nerve to a young one to ride at a place of 

 this description, in which his friend and his horse were 

 floundering, and within twenty yards of him at the time. 



No one headed the parson, who kept the lead to the 

 end, the fox having sunk before the pack within a field 

 of Bourton Wood, the earths of which, being open, might 

 perchance have saved his life. 



'' Well done, my old college," exclaimed the parson, as he 

 saw the two Christchurch men amongst the eleven that 

 were in at the death, and no more appeared until the fox 

 was broken up by the pack, and then only the few who 

 had passed the brook by a bridge. 



" But what is become of Mr. Goodall ? " was the anxious 

 inquiry of many. 



" I saw him safe on the bank," replied a whipper-in ; 

 "and I told a farmer to send some men to assist his horse, 

 which he promised he would immediately do." And he 

 was as good as his word. Pineapple was pulled out by a 

 team of horses, not much the worse for his disaster ; and 

 when his brother collegians returned to Chipping Norton, 

 where their hacks awaited their arrival, they found the 

 one comfortably dressed in his stall, and the other in the 

 act of finishing a good-sized bowl of bishop, which he had 

 swallowed after his luncheon, by way of keeping out the 

 cold, as has ever been the good practice, as well of ancient 

 as of more modern times. 



