430 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



called for a quick eye, a good horse, and a bold heart 

 to find or to make practicable outlet. Happily these 

 essentials were in plenty, in the moderate-sized but fairly 

 representative field of the morning. 



Presently the pack bent slightly to the road, then 

 crossed it half-way to Waterloo Gorse, and bore down- 

 ward for a moment towards Braybrooke, where a shepherd's 

 presence had diverted our fox a trifle from his course. 

 They drove hotly along the lower ground and over 

 undulating side-hills, the Master in the only position which 

 can ever avail for due control of a field of horsemen in the 

 Shires, to wit, the head of affairs ; with him, Mr. P. Beatty 

 getting, while he may, all pleasure in hfe out of the big 

 blood bay that may at any time pass into other, fortunate, 

 hands. 



Fifteen minutes ; another shepherd, and another con- 

 sequent temporary divergence on the part of this level- 

 headed fox. Waterloo Gorse two fields on our left. On 

 our right a long strip of plantation, and the railway 

 (Northampton and Market Harboro') directly in front. 

 We drew rein, by order, while Goodall made his for- 

 ward cast ; then, as hounds feathered over the railway, 

 we passed in file round a seedfield, facts I think worth 

 mentioning in proof of how Northamptonshire yields 

 readily and effusively to discipline — when hounds are not 

 running. 



A farmer had viewed fox beyond the railway. To his 

 direction Goodall held northward towards Harboro' ; and 

 we followed down the steep and still frozen slope, one of 

 the few occasions during the run on which we had to 

 complain of ground rattling under the jump or slipping 

 under the gallop. 



Settling to work again, hounds drove forward across 

 the Oxendon and Market Harboro' turnpike, keeping to 

 the area of great bullock pastures that bedeck Market 

 Harboro', and that have made it a proverb for strength and 

 grandeur since Osbaldeston, Asheton Smith, and Jim Mason, 

 or Timber Powell of brave memory and Captain Carnegie 

 of present time rode over — No, took their three falls a 

 mile over them, in the attempt to ride straight. It wasn't 



