AN UNLUCKY SPORTSMAN. 53 



impending shadow, and that slip between the cup and 

 the lip of which we have all heard is a familiar accident 

 with poor Chansett. Among his friends at the Mutton 

 Chop Club the question " Is there going to be a frost ?" 

 is generally answered by another quer}^ " Is Chansett 

 going to hunt r" If so, hard weather is accepted as 

 inevitable. Should a man's horse go lame, the inference 

 is that Chansett had been invited to ride it, or that he 

 was on the point of setting out on its back when the 

 injury was discovered. 



One evening last season Chansett turned up at the 

 Club in a state of considerable cheeriness, ballasted 

 somewhat by the suspicion that the demon of ill-luck 

 which so steadily followed him might be lurking for him 

 as usual in an unexpected place. Chansett was going 

 to hunt with the North Wessex. A friend of his, a 

 member of the Hunt, who had a couple of horses down 

 in that neighbourhood, was away for a time, and had 

 generously told Chansett that he might go down any 

 time he chose, and a horse would be sent to the station 

 to meet him if he gave notice the day before. Chansett 

 knew both horses, and selected the one he liked best ; 

 and when the train pulled up — he looked out of the 

 window rather nervously, though he had sent both letter 

 and telegram to make sure — there was the animal being 

 led to and fro. 



For once all seemed well. Chansett divested himself 

 of his great-coat and swung himself into the saddle, 

 adjusted his stirrups, pressed on his hat, and felt that 



