THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 159 



with his friend that evening ; to go the first twelve miles 

 of the thirty next morning, on his friend's coach-box, 

 behind four of his greys ; and to put four posters to the 

 " drag," over the last eighteen. And we may as well give 

 the events of the day at once ; at least those in which we 

 are concerned. They found a capital fox ; and on seeing 

 a person play a solo over a new, stiff, hog-backed, oaken 

 stile, at the end of fifteen miles, point-blank, and over a 

 right stiff country to boot, our hero made him an offer of 

 200 guineas for his horse, which, after some hesitation, 

 was accepted, Sir John having been previously consulted 

 as to whence the 200 were to be forthcoming, a point soon 

 determined upon, Sir John making use of an expression 

 rather familiar to our hero namely, "Leave that to 

 me." In fact, Sir John said, " Let the horse be sent to my 

 house to-morrow, and I will advance the money, and 

 with pleasure, for I think you have bought a right good 

 horse." 



But we must " Hark back " to the harriers. They also 

 found a capital hare, and a capital run was the result. 

 Our hero not only took the lead, but frequently pressed 

 upon the hounds ; now and then, indeed, riding abreast of 

 the leading ones, regardless of old Dick's 



" Pray don't press upon 'em, Mr. Raby " (it was no 

 longer " Mr. Francis ") ; on the contrary, he had once the 

 satisfaction of hearing him exclaim 



" Go along, you yelping curs ; get from under my 

 horse's feet, or I'll ride over you ! " 



But the scent was so good, and the hounds were so good, 

 that they would not be driven off the line ; and a capital 

 forty minutes to Lord Morton's plantation was the result, 

 no one being near to them except Frank Raby and old 

 Dick, Sir John being upon a hack. But I have not done 

 with them yet. Seeing Mr. Raby, as he called him, 

 putting his horse straight at a six-barred white gate, into 

 his lordship's plantation, which he knew was always 

 locked, the following soliloquy escaped him : 



" Surely Mr. Raby ain't agoing to jump that gate ! He's 

 over it, by the Lord ! Well, now I am done ; I never 

 thought I should have seen the man who could set me 

 with these hounds ; but I am too old, and so is Clodhopper, 

 for white plantation gates. Well, I never thought I should 

 have come to this." 



One of the park keepers being at hand, the gate was 



