4o6 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



horse turned restive and reared, and a slip entailed this 

 distressing fracture. For more than an hour — while Mr. 

 Tailby supported himself against the gate-post — no one 

 chanced to pass along the lonely road, nor could he by 

 shouting bring even a labourer to his assistance. Happily 

 this waiting in the intense cold does not appear to have 

 produced any worse effect, and the honoured Master of 

 the Billesden is said, at the mom^ent of writing, to be 

 progressing very favourably.^ 



At least three changes of mastership are announced 

 among the packs of the Midlands. Besides Mr. Colville 

 Smith's resignation of the Bicester, we are told of Mr. 

 Inge giving up the Atherstone and Mr. Fielden the Fitz- 

 william. As to the two first-named countries, I have heard 

 of no certain successor. With regard to the last-named, 

 rumour has it that Lord Milton may continue it as a 

 family pack, than which no other arrangement could 

 possibly be more desirable and fitting. A great, good 

 sporting country is the Fitzwilliam, in spite of its many 

 acres of plough. This plough, separated field from field 

 by strong thorn fences originally grown between pasture 

 and pasture, calls for a better horse, and perhaps a better 

 man, to live with hounds than any tillage country in Eng- 

 land. Mr. Fielden, I am led to believe, possessed all the 

 needed capacity for getting over it, and so must any other 

 huntsman who essays to follow the footsteps of George 

 Carter. A Master's sphere, in the other two countries 

 more than the Fitzwilliam, is that of diplomacy. He has 

 to combat and clear away not only the old difficulties, but 

 that of the new style of fencing. The bed of roses has 

 nowadays its thorns, and these thorns are too often barbed. 



I meant to have said a few words more in humble tribute 

 to the excellence of the Atherstone and Bicester countries 

 this Thursday night. But my needless volubility is sud- 

 denly checked by mine host of the evening : " Look here, 

 my dear fellow, scribble as long as you like ; but hadn't 

 you better move to another room ? You happen to be 

 writing on my old Chippendale escritoire, and as sure as 



' In this year of 1903 Mr. Tailby is still riding as heartily — almost as hard — 

 as ever. 



