i6 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



thirsty applicant, when two others burst upon the scene. 

 " Begorra, and it wasn't him that held the gate at all. 

 Haven't we been running all the day?" Of course the 

 first comer stuck up vociferously for his rights, where- 

 upon No. 2 in his excitement declared, "Thin the gentle- 

 man shan't go out by the gate at all at all," and even 

 laid hand upon my reins ! This was more than I could 

 stand ; so, in the confidence begotten of a good horse, 

 of the knowledge that a gate is as a rule the least desir- 

 able point of exit from any ordinary field in Ireland, 

 and of the possession of perhaps the only hunting-crop 

 of that day's assembly, I ordered my new friend hotly 

 to drop his hands at once. With this order he readily 

 complied ; but only to plunge them both, with best 

 intent, into the face of his rival, the muckcart-man. At 

 it they went, like the electors of Cork, very clumsily 

 but very fiercely, hammering each other while I yelled 

 with laughter. Two good rounds they treated me to, 

 till, fully satisfied with the sport provided, I thought it 

 time to play peacemaker. Sixpence apiece made their 

 hearts glad ; and off they went in high good humour, 

 the three of them, to do justice to the toast of " Stag- 

 hunting," as far as the pittance would allow. 



CHAPTER III 



THE CARLOW AND ISLAND 



It had long been my ambition to see Mr. Robert Watson 

 hunt a fox ; good fortune and good friendship put this 

 also in my power during my visit to Ireland, a chance 

 upon which I shall ever congratulate myself. An 

 immense tract of very varied country (at least four 

 counties in whole or in part ; to wit, Carlow, Wexford, 

 Wicklow, and Kildare) is hunted over by him, as it was 

 by his father and grandfather before, Mr. Watson at 

 the present moment being seventy-nine years of age, ye( 

 young as a boy. Of course from one day's experience I 

 cannot pretend to be in a position to describe the 



