56 GOOD SPORT 



Willoughby de Eresby lost his hat when jumping 

 stiff timber, and turned up at the finish bare- 

 headed. 



It was in the gloaming when Gillard, with hounds 

 and his staff, turned for Belvoir kennels, nearly 

 seventeen miles away. The roads were stony and 

 the night was dark, so lanterns were borrowed from 

 the first homestead, and tied to the stirrup-irons, for 

 fear hounds might be run into by vehicles travelhng 

 after dark. Those were indeed heroic times, and 

 well might it have been said that any one day's 

 work from Belvoir was equal to two seen in the 

 provinces ! It was no uncommon occurrence to 

 meet the pack coming into Grantham on a dark 

 night, Gillard's horn ringing out a warning when 

 the sound of approaching wheels was heard. How 

 cheery was the greeting as you hailed him in the 

 night ! " Had a capital day's sport and killed our 

 fox. You ought to have been with us, sir ! " Such 

 untirable enthusiasm was an inspiration, and there 

 were many who never cared to hunt again when 

 Gillard laid down his horn. It was no unusual 

 occurrence for the huntsman to sit down to his well- 

 earned meal at nine o'clock, after a long day spent 

 in the saddle on the distant Lincolnshire side of 

 the country. 



The story of the day does not end here, for the 

 Vicar of Folkingham, the Rev. T. A. Stoodley, who 

 realised that his flock, after the events of the stir- 

 ring day's sport, had been talking and thinking of 

 nothing else but fox-hunting since the Friday, was 

 ready for them on Sunday. Choosing for his text 

 " Evil shall hunt the wicked," he riveted the atten- 

 tion of his sport-loving congregation from start to 

 finish, delivering a most telling sermon ; boldly 

 describing what we might fairly suppose are 



