FOX-HUNTING IN ENGLAND. 225 



field, I took a wise old horse, " Cock Robin," who 

 was well up to my weight, and who, as Percival 

 told me, would teach me more than I could teach 

 him. He was sent on early with the other hunt- 

 ers, and I took a " hack " to ride to cover. We 

 were a party of four, and we went through the 

 fields and the lawns and the rain, to where the 

 meet was fixed for eleven o'clock, at Barnwell 

 Castle, a fine old Norman ruin, — square and low, 

 with four large corner towers draped in magnifi- 

 cent ivy. It was a dreary morning, and not more 

 than sixty were out ; but among these, as always, 

 there were ladies, and there was more than the 

 usual proportion of fine horses. One cover was 

 drawn blank, and we moved to another, where 

 a fox was found, and whence the run was sharp 

 and too straight for a prudent novice to see very 

 much of it ; and it was some minutes before Cock 

 Robin and his rider came up with the hounds, 

 who had come to a check in a large wood. 

 Throughout the day there was a good deal of 

 waiting about different covers, between which 

 the fox ran back and forth. Finally he broke 

 10* o 



