256 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



turned rightward from Catthorpe, hounds sped happily 

 to Shawell ; and, rounding the church, made a half-circle 

 of the village, and, now running sharply, now picking 

 their way slowly, went onward to Cotesbach. It was 

 during the journey from Catthorpe to Cotesbach that men 

 first found themselves constrained to ignore all considera- 

 tions of ground and legs, and to make their way as best 

 they could. But oh, how the bare turf rattled here and 

 there above Shawell village ! And one or two of the 

 fences were so obdurately wide that, ride carefully as you 

 would, horses had to stretch themselves to clear the further 

 ditch. 



To me (if I may be forgiven for intruding my personality 

 for one moment) this ride round my native village con- 

 stituted an experience teeming with interest. Here we 

 galloped across the " Bushey Close," over whose bunches 

 of gorse I had a miniature steeplechase course for my 

 Shetland pony. Here, opening for us the gate into the 

 road, was " Ben " Letts, who has many a time been seen 

 with the Pytchley on a good horse, and over whose farm 

 and fences I had the privilege of riding since boyhood. 

 Here, pointing out the path of our fox, " so done he could 

 'a catched him himself," was Henry Cockerell, eagerly 

 welcoming the hunt over his "bit o' land" ; and here was 

 the village cripple, who never misses a meet to which his 

 crutches can carry him. You have, all of you, home sym- 

 pathies ; and, believe me and pardon me, none cling with a 

 stronger instinct to their native soil than they who were 

 born in a hunting country. 



But, beat as he was said to be, our fox crept on to 

 Cotesbach village ; and while Goodall was endeavouring 

 to pick him up in its outskirts (in fact, he seemed almost 

 to have him in hand), up jumped another, right in front of 

 hounds. Ought I to say " another " ? It is always — not 

 here, but with s'mother pack — " the same fox, I'll swear." 

 But this white-tagged fellow was so fresh and so fleet, and 

 went away so gaily, that I for one cannot consent in this 

 instance to sacrifice my conscience. He was over the 

 Cotesbach grazing-grounds and down to the river Swift in 

 no time — and you might, if you pleased, jump one little 



