THE BEST OF THE B^UN 



more. The owner, a Boddington farmer (and it may 

 not be generally known that many great steeplechasers 

 of old time — ask the veteran, Mr. Cowper — were reared 

 at Boddington), happened to be within touch, and, though 

 it matters not to the outside world, sold his weanling hunter 

 to " Brooksby " as he went. I have not yet decided at what 

 date the youngster may be equal to saddle and tops, but 

 most certainly I shall expect him to carry me straight, if 





Hereditary taste. Over fences and ditches 



my sense of duty to hounds shall last me three years 

 more. 



Monday was all Fawsley. 1 shall weary you if I attempt 

 renewed description of this peculiar district. Lock all 

 the gates, and you would then have in Fawsley (I was 

 going to say a Vale of Aylesbury, but, I remember, that 

 too is profusely gated) an easy Meath. Of course, there 

 would be a Lough o' the Bay, and a Bush Farm-fence 

 here and there, but the bulk of it would be feasible and 

 fascinating enough. As it is we gain ground, but often 

 lose hounds, by galloping gateward, and the man who 

 would play skyrocket and go off at continual tangents 

 would merely be laughed to well-deserved scorn. Hounds 



