THE KILDARE HOUNDS. IQ 



was, that when the parson was not riding, he usually- 

 spent his time going from one likely fox-refuge to 

 another ; and when he came to an earth, or a hole 

 where he suspected one of the ''artful dodgers" 

 might be, he used to throw himself on his hands and 

 knees in his anxiety to track him. Many noted hard 

 riders hunted in Kildare at this period, and it was a rare 

 treat to see Sir John on his notable white horse. Game- 

 cock ; Robin Aylmer, of Painstown, on his black 

 stallion, Rununculus, a brilliant performer, but very- 

 savage brute; Sir Philip Crampton and "Parson" 

 Burrowes, leading the pair over an intricate country. 

 There was a curious character, Sugu by name, one of 

 the Mickey Free type, who used to follow the hounds 

 on foot in those days. One day he happened to be stand ■ 

 ing on the banks of the well-known Laragh river, 

 when, near the end of a great run, the pack crossed 

 the stream ; at this time " the good and the true ones " 

 were far in front, the field being scattered like the 

 tail of a comet. The leading two jumped a very wide 

 place, and the first over was Sir John. " More power, 

 yer honour; yer a chip of the real good ould block; 

 may ye live for ever," exclaimed Sugu. The next 

 over was Robin Aylmer. " Bravo Squire ; sweet 

 Painstown, and an Irish sky above it ; musha the 

 devil himself couldn't 'hould' you." Then came 

 Sir Philip Crampton. "Well done. Dr. Phil; may I 

 never die till you cut a leg o' me," exclaimed the 

 enthusiastic rustic. 



The members of the Kildare Hunt Club used not 

 to confine their hunting manoeuvres to the home cir- 

 cuit either. They frequently spent a week or so 

 together at a hotel in a good hunting country, and 



