The second line was from Arborfield Cross to Barkham Square. 

 A large field again, heavy going, and much stringing out. After 

 passing Handpost Farm the line swung right-handed down the hill 

 west of Barkham Rectory and then up over the road. At this point a 

 sporting pony in a trap tried to join the line. He got well on to the 

 bank, but the cart wouldn't follow, and the driver got him back with 

 difficulty. The line now swung to the left down a fine grass slope 



to Barkham Brook, Here there was much refusing, at one time nine 

 horses fighting on the take off bank. One rider, not a S.C. man we 

 hoped, at last dismounted in despair, and begged a spectator to 

 " ride the damned brute over ! " 



One more fence and Barkham Square is reached. Here Mrs. 

 Greenfield was at home to the Drag and all the neighbourhood. 

 Having done ourselves nobly, thanked our kind host and hostess, 

 and lighted one of his best cigars, we rode home quietly behind it 

 to congratulate ourselves on having so good a finish to the season. 



Never again shall we welcome, as such, our best of Masters, or 

 be shown the way by the cheeriest of whips. Never again will Mac 

 delight our eyes with the sight of his manly form faultlessly attired 

 in the Drag livery. But, no matter, the Drag never dies ! Long 

 live the Drag ! 



This book, devoted as it is to recording the doings of those who 

 hunt with the Drag, would, however, be quite incomplete without a 

 sketch of those who don't. 



Finis. 



( 80 ) 



