6o SKETCHES EV THE HUNTING FIELD. 



Chansett to take his horse, and of course Chansett 

 emphatically declined, alleging with some truth that he 

 was too heavy for the light-weight hunter that carried 

 little Flutterton. Equally, of course, Chansett refused 

 to listen to his friend's determination not to hunt, to go 

 back and have a look for some birds, &c. At length 

 Flutterton was reluctantly persuaded to set off after the 

 now rapidly retreating hunt, and in a few moments 

 Chansett somewhat sadly took the reins and started in 

 the dog-cart for the town — his things had been sent 

 to the railway station, for he was due in London at 

 night. 



There was no train for a couple of hours or so, and 

 while lunch was preparing Chansett strolled round the 

 inn stables. Some rough- coated farmers' horses, an old 

 poster or two, and a very good-looking hunter occupied 

 the stalls. The latter struck Chansett by his promising 

 appearance. If he had only had a creature like that 

 what fun it would have been ! 



"Whose is that?" Chansett asked of a man standing- 

 near, who had been curiously examining the gentleman's 

 legs. 



"One of Mr. Gates' 'osses, sir," the man replied, 

 touching his hat. 



"What's he doing here ?" he continued. 



" Gentleman wrote for it from London, sir, and never 

 come. Missed the train, I 'spect, he did." 



" / wrote to Mr. Gates, or rather I telegraphed for a 

 horse to-day, and it never came. I am Mr. Chansett." 



