THE BLACKMORE VALE. 95 



on the line all the time. As his health failed 

 rapidly during his last season, Press got into the 

 way of always waiting for the last fox from covert, 

 and he was known to wait a point too long even 

 for this, so that the last fox had gone before he 

 moved. 



Press was a bold rider, though he had bad 

 hands, and he always liked to ride slowly at his 

 fences. One of his sayings was, that " you can 

 squeeze through anywhere." Once when he had 

 "squeezed through" a very high thick fence, a 

 well-known member of the hunt shouted to him, 

 " What is the other side ? " " Come over and you 

 will see," was the only answer Press vouchsafed as 

 he galloped after his hounds. He was well aware 

 of his bad hands, and one day when he had had a 

 nasty fall in a cramped corner and I was holding 

 his horse for him to remount, he said ruefully, 

 while he cast a look after the fast- vanishing pack, 

 ** Ah, if I had your hands I should be with them 

 now." When any one remarked to Press that he 

 was unlucky not to have killed his fox, he always 

 made the same answer, while he slowly shook his 

 head. "Yes," he would say — "Yes, the glorious 

 uncertainty of foxhunting." 



After Press's retirement in 1876 his health gave 

 way rapidly. He had married a second time not 

 long before, and with his wife and young children, 

 two of whom were named appropriately Nimrod 

 and Diana, he lived close to Milborne Station in a 

 house that had once been the Bugle Inn. On the 



