The Quorn. 83 



feature in the sport — and tlie scenery — of tlie Hunt as 

 ever. Botany Bay, as tlie covert at its base is called, 

 gives forth foxes and runs as freely as in years gone 

 by. A mile or so away is Scraptoft_, with its hall of 

 hospitality, and its sterling gorse — another point from 

 which the Billesdon country is frequently pierced. 

 But whichever line foxes take from the Coplow or 

 from Scraptoft Gorse, they have strong good grass 

 over which to lead a Friday field. And this Quorn 

 Friday field is of numbers such as would horrify — or 

 even crush — any other hunt. Of course every man 

 who wears a Q. H. button on his coat, or lives on 

 Quorn soil, is there. So is everyone from the Cottes- 

 more who is within reach, and who has a horse to 

 bring out. Mr. Tailby^s followers all join in; and 

 even some of the Belvoir for the nearer meets. It is 

 the great day for Leicester ; and Eugby sends a 

 contingent by train. Of such a multitude of course 

 only a small minority ever catch a glimpse of hounds 

 at work. But all do not care about that. The country 

 is so wide, there are so many places where they 

 can jump, and so many gates that they can go 

 through, that it is easy enough for all to get about 

 — and so they do, enjoying themselves each in 

 his own way. But a Quorn Friday for the man who 

 loves hounds is pleasanter at four o'clock than at 

 twelve. 



Adding that Mr. Warner has given the Hunt a 

 very promising young covert near Willoughby (in the 

 Monday country) ; that Beeby, Keyham, and Quenby 

 Hall are frequent Friday meets (Beeby for Barkby 

 Holt or Scraptoft Gorse, Keyham for Foxholes, and 



G 2 



