I90 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



trodden under foot, no longer be beholden to the em- 

 ployers of labour, the accumulators of wealth. The local 

 corn-dealer at least I had on the hip, nitto the blacksmith. 

 They should taste of my new precepts through the medium 

 of account rendered and ignored. Happy idea wherewith 

 to lighten the tedium of a frost. But that night came the 

 thaw, my new role ceased to be tangible, my employment 

 returned, and they were saved. 



I need go no farther th:ui Tuesday, December 13, for 

 my simple tale. The North Warwickshire meeting at Rugby 

 gave us, by all acknowledgment, the best day's sport of 

 the young season. 



Passing over the killing of a mangy fox from Hilmorton 

 Gorse (a fortunate feat from an otherwise healthy and 

 well-stocked covert), we came to Cook's Gorse, the source 

 already of one sharp gallop this autumn. Hounds had 

 on that occasion killed a fox, hunting him down in 

 Rugby town. But common supposition had it at the 

 time that they had changed, in the gardens of Bilton 

 Grange, before killing. To-day's event went to prove the 

 theory. 



Cook's Gorse (Parneirs Gorse were a more up-to-date 

 name) takes its stand above the little stream known as 

 Rain's Brook, and this is some two miles out of Rugby. 

 Let me add, before proceeding further, that Tuesday had 

 again picked up the frost, dispersed only two days pre- 

 viously, and, as we stood at the covertside, already had 

 conviction been forced into our shivering frames — " No 

 more hunting for a month." It was freezing at that time 

 (about one o'clock) as piquantly and heartily as at cock- 

 crow, an epoch that I take to be about identical with the 

 candle-light shave, when by force of circumstances London 

 has to be the morning starting-point. Thus the roads 

 were as glass, the north sides of the hedges as powdered 

 pie-crust ; and, needless to say, the whole of that covert- 

 side assembly were " keen as mustard," dreading a lock- 

 out, but eagerly sanguine of the present chance. And 

 there was no small or second-rate muster this Tuesday, 

 believe me. 



With a fox gone at the lower end, we " got away," 



