350 



THE BEST OF THE FUN 



of top upon which a horse could change his legs in com- 

 fort. And my preceptor, I soon noticed, chose, whenever 

 possible, the spot where loose dead thorns, rather than 

 sharp trimmed spikes or budding binders, composed the 

 top-hamper of the fence. " Very like Ireland after all, 

 only rather easier," spake I to myself, as with newborn 

 confidence I landed from the second bank, and would 

 gladly have doffed my hat to my unconscious pilot, but 

 that he was already leading me over a third into a road, 

 and that the compliment, besides being wasted, might 

 likely enough have involved me in dangerous inattention 

 to my own safety. 



Here was the pack, the huntsman picking himself up 

 from a fall into the lane, hounds casting themselves on 

 either flank, and a countryman beckoning up the road. 

 Quickly they were put right, and quickly the chase went 

 on. A moderate brook (Bow Brook, I fancy) brought 

 moderate confusion, not a tithe of what we should have 

 decorated it with in the shires of Northampton or Leices- 

 ter. The fences then came lighter, the pace better, and 

 those first fifteen minutes deserve to be dubbed " excellent 

 fun." On after a brief check, then two or more nice little 

 brooks which horses, by force of practice, seemed to take 

 all kindly in their stride. More quick, pretty work on the 

 part of the lady pack, more pleasant dairy closes or 

 mowing meadows, mofe and continual popping on to 

 banks and galloping upon soft turf. Ah ! what a luxuri- 

 ous privilege when all the world had seemed hard-baked 

 and summer-gripped. So on for thirty-five minutes in 

 all. Then it was told us that our fox, completely tired, 

 had been rolled over by a sheepdog. Further search at 

 length revealed that he had crawled back into an adjacent 

 drain. 



It will help to substantiate my brief sketch of Tues- 

 day's run if I add that the line was across Gale, with the 

 first check at Five Bridges, thence over Sayle's Farm to 

 Rhodes' House, heading for Stalbridge, and crossing the 

 Stalbridge Brook, rightward parallel to Devon and Somer- 

 set Railway nearly to Henstridge Station, and still more 

 to the right to Baslem's Hill, where the cur dog put in his 



