VERY EARLY HUNTING DAYS 3 



No one betrayed the fact that Miss Dora had 

 spent twenty minutes schooHng it there as she 

 had seen the grooms school the youngsters, before 

 she succeeded in knocking it into the deep trench. 



My walk in the procession to rescue the jennet 

 was tempered with remorse, and later I confessed 

 my sins. I can see now a kindly but peppery 

 father looking for his lost jennet, and a small child 

 listening to the men as they discussed its dis- 

 appearance. 



"She has the reins broke, Johnny Kennedy. 

 She has not, Jim Mack. Let ye have sinse. Is 

 there a trace of a broken rein on the post she was 

 tied to ? Thin someone loosed her. She is that 

 crabbed some maybe she loosed herself." 



My father told me with decision that I was not 

 to grow up into a jockey and nothing else, but we 

 were soon picking the spotted white moss apples 

 together to throw to the labourers, and before 

 tea-time I was hammering old Grampus the bay 

 farm horse backwards and forwards from tram 

 cock to wynds. Why does hay never smell now 

 as it did then, and why is everything done by 

 machinery, too quickly and easily ? No one ever 

 knows the joy of a ride on the top of a moving 

 mass of hay, and the surreptitious delight of 

 working forward until it overbalances and one 

 goes buried in sweet hot grass out under the big 

 horse's heels, 



**I toult ye that tram was too high entirely, 



