i82 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



Pytchley this Wednesday, you could scarcely have re- 

 turned home without admitting, first, that the chance had 

 been given you of seeing excellent hunting and much 

 bright houndwork ; secondly, that you had ridden in 

 capital company ; and thirdly (if you like to add it), that 

 every opportunity had been forthcoming of testing the 

 pleasures of tumbling about. 



In fact I am not sure that the third privilege was not 

 a matter of more general adoption — I won't say apprecia- 

 tion — than the other two. You know your fellow-men 

 and fellow-women quite as well as I do, or any other irre- 

 sponsible penman can do. And you know well that, talk 

 as technically and enthusiastically as we choose, we don't 

 every one care a great deal about "the blessed hounds." 

 You know, too, while admitting the Pytchley field to be 

 about the cheeriest under the sun, that quite a good many 

 think that Providence has dealt very harshly indeed with 

 them, in that it allows more than themselves and their six 

 particular friends to come out with the pack at all. On 

 the score of falling about, there could be no two opinions. 

 Nobody wished it to befall him, but quite twenty-five per 

 cent, of the field met their fate in one fashion or another — 

 pretty harmlessly, I believe, but very obviously and dirtily. 

 The explanation was perhaps to be found in a blazing sun 

 and a succession of blind, woolly fences with the sunshine 

 directly beyond them. Add to these conditions an exces- 

 sive number of people, some very young, some very youth- 

 ful (you would appreciate the difference if you could take 

 a census of the Pytchley field), but all in an excessive 

 hurry ; and I think you need look no further for inducing 

 causes. The effect was in many cases exceedingly comical, 

 and, as we all in turn contribute our quota to the comedy 

 of the day, I need hardly apologise for touching upon in- 

 stance. A gallant lancer had his tunic split from shoulder 

 to tail, and, galloping off a full mile in the opposite direc- 

 tion to hjunds, pulled up to find himself pursued by a 

 dozen breathless men and women. When he laid tax 

 upon them for safety-pins, most of them fled away in 

 wrath, avowing that they had been abominably tricked. 

 However, he reappeared shortly afterwards with his tails 



