454 THE BEST OF THE FUN 



From Banner Wood to Oundle Wood, and with a sharp 

 twist back from Oundle Wood to that of Bearshank is 

 no great journey, but it brought about some quick and 

 pleasing hound-work. 



On Monday, for a last occasion, Mr. Mackenzie took 

 out over thirty couple of hounds, and made an excellent 

 hunt. They ran for fifty minutes and a full six-mile point 

 before bringing their fox to book, and ran surprisingly 

 hard, both in covert and out. Not over a Leicestershire 

 country, it is true. But what would you have ? This 

 was on the 22nd day of April. Besides, I am inclined 

 now to doubt whether I have not all my life placed a 

 false estimate upon Leicestershire. For, was it not said 

 to me in all gravity during a recent trip to the Isle of 

 Aylesbury, " Yes, I knov^r Leicestershire, and it wouldn't 

 be half a bad country if they hunted the stag over it twice 

 a week, and ran a drag on two other days ! " It was a 

 woman who thus delivered herself, I must admit ; but 

 she spoke with an air of conviction that carried weight, 

 even if it gave one a chill down the backbone ; and, 

 besides the fact of her being an undeniable rider, is it not 

 granted nowadays that there are very few subjects indeed 

 upon which the better sex are not quite as well informed 

 as ourselves ? I am told that even at Melton they are in 

 the habit of discussing scientific fox-hunting with quite 

 as much zest and acumen as the younger men-disciples. 



But I am wandering into a sphere of speculation. 

 Come back with me, I pray you, into Rockinghamshire, 

 the centre of whose forest is marked by a white post 

 (about half a mile from Rockingham Castle) ; and here 

 Mr. Mackenzie threw off this morning. 



To the friendly discursiveness of a bystander — not 

 unlikely the keeper from the Castle — I am indebted for 

 the following tale, new to me at all events. When George 

 Osbaldeston was Master of the Pytchley, he bet a thou- 

 sand guineas that he would meet at this white post at 

 twelve o'clock, kill his fox, and sit down to dinner at his 

 house in Carlton House Terrace at eight. To do this he 

 had laid a string of thoroughbreds on the road, at five- 

 mile intervals ; and in the result he reached his destina- 



