THE FIRST MEET OF THE S HOUNDS. 157 



every possible point of view when one's favourite sport 

 again comes into season, and there is a particularly 

 excellent prospect of the first of many good runs. 

 Breakfast is dispatched with one eye on the plate and 

 the other on the drive in front of the house, to note the 

 earliest appearance of the little iron-grey colt, that 

 seemed at the end of last season to take so kindly to 

 his business, and will, it is the unanimous opinion of 

 his many friends and acquaintances, distinguish himself 

 greatly now that he has come to maturity, and now that 

 judicious schooling has taught him the shortest and 

 easiest way over a fence, and has succeeded in con- 

 vincing him that he is not a competitor in a high- 

 jumping contest, as he appeared at first to believe was 

 the case. 



Heralded by the jingling of his curb, here he comes, 

 and my pink-coated companion joins with me in ad- 

 miration of the well-shaped frame, sturdy, yet not 

 heavy, with those muscular second thighs, upon which 

 so much depends towards the close of a hard day ; and 

 powerful shoulders, which do not belie their apparent 

 capacity for getting through the dirt. I think it is 

 "Scrutator" — it can hardly be Major Whyte-Melville, 

 for his horses were invariably of a more fashionable 

 stamp — who vows that one of the best horses he ever 

 rode had crooked fore-legs and no shoulders, but mus- 

 cular hind-quarters, with tremendous ribs and loins ; 

 so that in fact his fore-quarters acted simply as 

 pioneers. It may be that the propelling power of a 



