RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 57 



the top of Dnrley Hill. It was across one of these 

 paddocks that our fox had gone, and the hounds after 

 him, as soon as they could get through. The field had 

 only one option, and that was to go round to the 

 forest gate in the road, and then up the said road to 

 the top of the hill, and turn sharp to the right to get 

 to the hounds. There is, of course, a gate into these 

 paddocks from the forest, close to Symonds's house, and 

 our friend the young gentleman, seeing the gate open, 

 turned in, and began galloping across after the hounds. 

 I hallooed out to him, knowing him to be a stranger, 

 " You can't get out there, sir," and old George Carter 

 heard it. As we came along on the top of the hill, 

 and outside the paddock paling, there was our friend 

 riding about to find a place where he could get through, 

 as over was impossible ; and at last he had to retrace 

 his steps and go out by the same gate he went in at, 

 and then follow us round, and we were not long in 

 actually picking up our fox, already dead beat. 

 Whether he was dead before the grand young gentle- 

 man came up or not I won't say, but I do remember 

 his trying to hide his mortification, in not the choicest 

 language, as to " his luck," or some such thing, and 

 poor old George in his quiet way tried to explain to 

 him — 



" I beg your pardon, sir, but you see you did 



