THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 257 



no business in Warwickshire, for some part of it is 

 infernally deep, especially on the breaking up of a frost. 

 I saw every horse blown to a standstill in twelve minutes, 

 the other day, in the neighbourhood of Southon, which is 

 the deepest part of any. It was a ridiculous scene, when 

 about a dozen of us came to a low gate, which none of 

 our horses had the power to leap. Robert Cannons at last 

 crammed his horse through it, and so released us from our 

 prison ; for there was no other way of getting out of the 

 field, from the immense height and strength of the fence. 

 In the Meriden country your horses will excel, because the 

 fences there are, for the most part, placed on a bank, and 

 not planted on the ground, as in the Stratford. I am 

 going to finish the season in the Atherstone country, 

 from whence you may hear from me again. In the 

 meantime believe me, dear Hargrave, truly yours to 

 the end, 



"FRANCIS BABY." 



No small degree of interest was excited in the breast of 

 our young sportsman on his arrival in the Atherstone 

 country, by reason of the high character he had heard of 

 the nobleman who then hunted it, and also of his hunts- 

 man, who had the reputation of being one of the best at 

 that time of his class. The former was the amiable Lord 

 Varney ; the latter, the civil and unpresuming Sam 

 Lawton, as clever a huntsman as ever hallooed to a hound, 

 and equally good in the saddle. The hunt was dis- 

 tinguished as being composed of a select number of 

 gentlemen, of high character in their calling, and every- 

 thing in Lord Varney's hunt was conducted with a pi-o- 

 priety and respectability that left nothing to be wished 

 for by the members of it, or by those who occasionally 



joined it. 



The Atherstone country is soon described. On the 

 Staffordshire side it is woodland, and bad for scent ; on 

 those of Derbyshire and Leicestershire, very good indeed. 

 In fact, from Burbage Wood, or Tooley Park, or Bosworth, 

 a run may be seen over as fine a country as even a Melton 

 man would desire. And the mention of a Melton man 

 reminds me that I may as well at once transcribe the 

 first letter from Frank Raby to his friend Hargrave, 

 inasmuch as, amongst other matters, it has reference to 

 the doings of Melton men, in conjunction with those 



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