198 The Best Fourteen-Hander in England. 



not quite so high as the gate itself, this stile was pretty nearly as 

 nasty a leap, for it had two foot-boards, which crossed each other, 

 projecting more than a yard on each side. There was a legend 

 that one "Jack Russell," a hard-riding, drunken farmer, had cleared 

 this very stile when coming home from market at night, and when 

 its white bars could hardly be seen, for it was one of the condi- 

 tions of the wager that the lamp which blazed over the turnpike- 

 door should be extinguished when he took this dangerous leap. He, 

 howeVer, cleared it well, and the stile for ever afterwards went by 

 the name of Jack Russell's stile. This feat was naturally much 

 talked of in our hard-riding neighbourhood, and Jack Russell became 

 a sort of hero in my eyes. Scores of times when riding along the 

 turnpike- road have I been tempted to have a shy at this very stile 

 myself, and try if I could not do as much as Jack Russell, but it 

 looked such a desperate stiff bit of timber, and, moreover, the cause- 

 way was always as hard as iron, so that if the horse should 

 make a mistake, certain death seemed to stare me in the face. I 

 have, no doubt, often cleared as large a jump when out with the 

 hounds, and thought nothing of it ; but then I had soft ground 

 under me to fall on. The little mare appeared to see the closed 

 gate as soon as I did, and made up her mind in an instant, for she 

 flew up on to the causeway, which was, I dare say, a foot higher 

 than the road, set her head straight at the stile, and cleared it ap- 

 parently as easy as she would have done a sheep hurdle. 



I turned back in my saddle with a look of triumph as the old 

 pikeman was hobbling out to see whatever it was that had just shot 

 by his house. " Gentlemen," as the public speakers say, " this was 

 the proudest moment of my life." I had now done as much as 

 Jack Russell, and that on a pony which I had never ridden over 

 a hurdle. There are many grades of ambition in this world, 

 and I had now reached the summit of mine. " Oh ! you little 

 jewel," I thought, as the pony went sailing along the smooth 

 causeway, as fresh as ever, "I'll forgive you all now, and 

 never for a moment regret the 30^. you cost me. As soon 

 as I can get you pulled up, I'll turn you gently home, for it's out 



