The Sport of Our Jtncestors 



him in his hands would be a subject worthy of Edwin 

 Landseer himself : a blackthorn, which has laid hold of his 

 cheek, has besmeared his upper garments with blood, and 

 one side of his head and cap are cased in mud, by a fall he 

 has had in a lane, his horse having alighted in the ruts from 

 a high flight of rails ; but he has ridden the same horse 

 throughout the run, and has handled him so well he could 

 have gone two miles further, if the chace had been continued 

 so long. Osbaldeston's ' Who-hoop ' might have been heard 

 at Cottesmore, had the wind set in that direction, and 

 every man present is ecstatic with delight. ' Quite the 

 cream of the thing, I suppose,' says Lord Gardner, a very 

 promising young one, at this time fresh in Leicestershire. 

 * The cream of everything in the shape of fox-hunting,' 

 observes that excellent sportsman Sir James Musgrave, 

 looking at that moment at his watch. ' Just ten miles, as 

 the crow flies, in one hour and two minutes, with but two 

 trifling checks, over the finest country in the world. What 

 superb hounds are these ! ' added the baronet, as he turned 

 his horse's head to the wind. ' You are right,' says Colonel 

 Lowther, ' they are perfect. I wish my father had seen 

 them do their work to-day.' Some of the field now come up, 

 who could not live in the first flight ; but, as there is no 

 jealousy here, they congratulate each other on the fine day's 

 sport, and each man turns his head towards home. 



A large party dine this evening at the Old Club, where, 

 of course, this fine run is discussed, and the following 

 accurate description of it is given by one of the oldest 

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