CHAPTER XXIX 



THE RUNNER 



No hunt would be complete without a "runner," 

 and no hunt is ever long without one, though I do 

 not remember coming across any hunt that had 

 two. One may be tolerated, but two would be 

 unbearable, for though the runner is a good sports- 

 man, and very useful upon occasion, he is not 

 always a desirable companion, though there are, of 

 course, exceptions. On an opening day, which is 

 one of his harvests, he is a great man indeed. 

 Dressed in a cast-off scarlet, which is generally far 

 from being shabby, with a two-season-old hunting 

 cap on his head, white breeches, and leather 

 leggings, the gift all of them of various members 

 of the hunt or their servants, he on that occasion 

 presents a truly imposing spectacle. He will be at 

 the meet before the first horseman arrives, though 

 he may have had to tramp a dozen miles or more 

 to get there. If the fixture is at some country 

 house it is certain that he will have made friends 

 with the butler by telling him of some piece of 

 country gossip, and he will have had his reward in 

 the shape of a good lump of beef and bread and a 

 pint of beer. Should, however, the fixture be at 

 some village, he is sure to find congenial company 

 in some taproom, where he will entertain all and 

 sundry with incidents of interest connected with 



