A RUN WITH THE 

 toast to our sporting entertainer, a 

 few of us move out to go afield 

 again. But not so the majority : 

 with them the lunch is half the 

 hunt : they feel they've had their 

 run, and now enjoy its complement. 

 So as we jog away to covers 

 higher in the hills, we find our field 

 reduced to three, and those three 

 not likely, with their overweighted 

 mounts, to carry on for long if the 

 run has any pace. At the cross a 

 spruit running out of a little bushy 

 glen, hounds suddenly break and 

 feather on a trail, and, bustling up 

 the ravine, they pick up a gradually 

 improving scent. Forrard ! Forrard ! 

 On to a long swelling down we go, 

 over the level for a space, and then a 

 heavy breather up to the top ; those 

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