A SPORTING TRIP TO FRANCE. 193 



and bruises, and many of the horns as flat as 

 a pancake- More trumpet blowing, talk, and 

 smoking, when at length piggy is hit off, and 

 away we go right merrily, some of the French- 

 men standing up in their stirrups about a foot 

 from the saddle, a la mode Anglaise, as they 

 called it, in that peculiar position our lamented 

 friend John Leech portrayed so well. " Comme 

 des jockeys Anglais," others are seated closely 

 to the pigskin, with their elbows up to their 

 ears, and some giving their nags a touch of the 

 Latchfords fore and aft, a la Tommy Lye. 



The boar is at last seen crossing a bend of 

 the river, about four hundred yards up, and 

 such a yell is given that a red Indian warwhoop 

 is nothing to it. Couteaux de chasse are drawn 

 and fiercely brandished, to the imminent danger 

 of their nearest neighbours, but no one thinks 

 of riding through the two-foot stream. All but 

 ourselves gallop for a bridge about half a mile 

 off, and in the meantime our porker is at bay on 

 the other side, and playing the deuce with the 

 dogs. 



" Here, Harry/ 7 said Debenham, jumping off 

 his horse, " catch hold of Toprail. Dash my 



13 



