158 THE HUXTIXC; FIELD 



performance of the hounds, and dwelHng with enthusiasm on 

 the exploits of his favourites. We are afraid to mention how 

 many best runs in /lis life Peter has seen ; their name is 

 Legion. 



But we are keeping the old gentleman too long on our easel. 

 We have sketched him from bo3-hood, and must now finish him 

 off as he is. There is something about a sportsman that invari- 

 ably proclaims itself, whether he be clad in scarlet and leathers 

 of high life, or the unassuming drabs and bottle-green of middle 

 station. Peter's eye retains its fire, notwithstanding the lapse 

 of seventy winters — we will say summers — seventy summers, 

 for they have passed lightly over him. 



The only piece of spruceness about Peter is his neckcloth 

 and shirt ; the former is of French cambric, and he has a large 

 pleated frill to the latter. Looking at him one is strongly 

 reminded of the old adage, " clean shirt, clean shave and a 

 guinea in one's pocket." His drab breeches are made of 

 uncommonly stout double-milled cloth, and his old mahogany 

 tops are scratched and roughed till the_y look as if they had 

 been rasped b\' the cook or the blacksmith. 



Peter's horse is like himself, a wiry-looking piece of whale- 

 bone. There is not a better shaped or a better conditioned one 

 in the field than the old chestnut, and his saddle and bridle 

 are models of their order. There is as much character about 

 saddles as there is about top-boots. It is not going beyond the 

 mark to say that a good, well-put-on saddle and bridle make 

 a difference of ten pounds in the looks of a horse. A London 

 saddle will fit any horse, just as a London coat will fit anj'bod}-. 

 What a difference there is between Peter's lean, roomy, well- 

 shaped one, and that fat, lump\-, spongy-looking thing of Paul 

 Poplin's. Again, look at Peter's well-cleaned, soft, thin-reined 

 bridle, with the chokeband dangling under his horse's head 

 like a lady's necklace, while Paul's is made to act up to its 

 name, by being drawn as tight as ever the bewildered, bedizened 



