The South Wold 31 



fox, tlian nineteen pheasants and fun for tlieir neigh- 

 iDOurs. 



It should be concluded from what we have said that 

 the South Wold is, on the whole, a very sporting 

 country. Given a sufficient rainfall, it seldom fails to 

 carry a scent, whether in the open or the woodlands. 

 Though chiefly plough, there is here and there a 

 twenty minutes^ patch of grass, over and above the 

 deep drained stretches of the Marsh. And, by the 

 way, that foxes have now and again run for their 

 lives wide over the tracts of fen and marsh, we have 

 proof in a letter now beside us, which takes us back 

 to the days when Sir Richard Sutton hunted both the 

 Burton and South Wold. We learn that ^^ nearly 

 fifty years ago" hounds once ran from Keal straight 

 across the fens and killed their fox at Sibsey within 

 four miles of Boston. Jack Shirley was the hunts- 

 man, and was left haK way in one of the open drains 

 Only three men rode to the finish. One of these was 

 Mr. Short of Edlington, who jumped every practicable 

 drain in the line — his horse being still fresh enough 

 to bring him home that evening. 



In conclusion, a bad horse will neither do for the 

 South Wold nor for any other part of Lincolnshire ; 

 for, though you may see a certain amount of sport on 

 an indifferent one — fences, as a rule, being easy, and 

 the field not big enough for individuals to get much 

 in each other^s way — yet when hounds really run, you 

 ought to have both blood and bone under you to live 

 with them. The farmers are fully alive to this — and 

 though, apparently, they breed nothing like the 

 number of horses fo7' sale that they used to, they still 



