CHAPTER IV 

 THE BEST RUN I HAVE EVER HAD 



THE best hunt in the world is always in 

 the glow of the moment's joy at the last . . . 

 until one looks back and thinks it over. So 

 much depends on one's horse, and on that great 

 element luck. . . . You may come to the end of a 

 really fine hunt which other people have loved . . . 

 weary of trying to get a turn, sick of seeing top 

 hats bob up and down in front of you, of some- 

 times hearing hounds, of going to the right and 

 finding they have swung left, of holding off for 

 Dromin and seeing them go in to Kilmallock. In 

 one of the very finest short gallops they ever had 

 out of Bruree, practically without a check for six 

 miles, I got badly away watching hounds in the 

 distance and I was prepared to say at the end that 

 it was a horrible hunt, when I came up to see all 

 the smiUng faces of the people who had got away. 

 A Master thinks no hunt really perfect if he does 

 not catch his fox. Some people like it slow enough 

 to watch hounds comfortably, others only want a 

 steeplechase and the most patient piece of hound 

 work will not please them without pace. A crowd 



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