228 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



having been running, I imagine, between three and four 

 hours. On this latter part I am open to correction. So 

 is my informant, and he has had it, as far as I had the 

 heart and conscience to bestow it, in exchange for a beaten 

 horse and a gloomy ride home, while hounds were still 

 running and the day was yet bright. Nevertheless I look 

 back with no regret upon a fine run and a pleasant 

 country, hoping only that I may tire another horse to- 

 morrow, with the belted varlet more efficient or fortunate. 

 The following list will give not only a considerable 

 portion of the field of the day, but also a fair idea of who 

 saw more or less of the Grafton run of Monday : The 

 Master and Mrs. Pennant, Sir Thomas and Lady Hesketh, 

 Major and Mrs. Blackburne, Major and Mrs. Allfrey, Mr. 

 and Mrs. Byass, Mr. and Mrs. Church, Rev. and Miss 

 Evans, Mr. and Mrs. Peareth, Mr. and Mrs. Simpson, Mr. 

 and Miss Whitehouse, Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, Mrs. Black- 

 lock, Miss Burchett, Miss Alderson, Miss Follett, Lord 

 Cork, Lord Euston, Lord Alfred FitzRoy, Lord Dungarvan, 

 Sir William Humphrey, Captains Riddell and Mackeson, 

 Messrs. Orr Ewing, Grant Ives, Morland, C. Knightley, 

 Adamthwaite, Burton, G. Campbell, F. Thornton, Graze- 

 brook, and the officers of Weedon Garrison. 



The North Warwickshire 



Tuesday y the last day of February. — Never, surely, was 

 a find welcomed with more glad and involuntary acclama- 

 tion than at Leicester's Piece this afternoon. The " view 

 holloa" found echo in a general hurrah — not loud, but 

 joyously earnest. The previous Tuesday, as some of you 

 may have in mind, had worked out that rather rare and 

 doleful experience, a blank day. On this Tuesday the 

 watch had reached 2.10, when all fear of such unhappy 

 recurrence was thus effectually dispersed. The old simile 

 of a torrent bursting its banks conveys only inadequately 

 such outpouring of pent enthusiasm. And of course there 

 was a scent, on this cool, brisk afternoon, and upon such 

 turf as surrounds this favoured covert — our last hope, by the 

 way, previous to the woodlands and their deep monotony. 



