i6 SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 



What humbugs we are, some of us — many of us — most 

 of us, probably, about something or other, all of us I 

 fear, occasionally ! In spite of being constantly thrown 

 out by taking Checkley's lead, and heeding his pro- 

 phetic utterances and opinions, a little knot of men will 

 always be found to follow him through the paths of 

 peace where a line of gates conducts to safety, and if a 

 fence has to be crossed, it is at a gentle pace through a 

 gap, and not with a rush, over a stiff binder or two. 



This latter style of jumping Checkley enjoys in his 

 pictures, vicariously, and rigorously abstains from 

 practising. " Paid sixpence for catching my horsej" 

 would never form an item in his table of expenditure, if 

 he kept one, as it did so frequently in the list of the 

 immortal Mr. Jorrocks' disbursements, for he never 

 ventures to cross anything that can possibly bring 

 about a spill. 



A broken-down hurdle, which the horse can walk 

 through, if he doesn't care about jumping it, is the limit 

 of his daring, and when such a " fence " has been sur- 

 mounted, it is grand to note the manner in which he 

 looks back to his friends, as his horse canters along-, 

 and shouts, " Come on — it's all right ! " as if he had 

 burst his way through a thick black bullfinch, and 

 wished to let other adventurous spirits know that it was 

 negotiable. 



And it is just as well that Checkley does not tempt 

 fate in the matter of fences. Theoretically, again, no 

 one knows the points of a hunter better than he. His 



