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CHAPTER IX. 



GOOD RUN FROM SHALLOWFORD GORSE — GRAND SPORT IN 

 THE EARLY EIGHTIES — HISTORIC RUN IN MAR'CH, 1882, 

 FROM BRINDLEY's WOOD, ENDING WITH A KILL NEAR 

 YOXALL, IN THE MEYNELL COUNTRY. 



The season of 1881-82 was a good one for sport, and less 

 interfered with by frost than several of its predecessors. 

 The following is from the Field, November 26th, 1881 : — 



" November 18th. Norton Bridge. — If a ' cloudy sky ' be one of tlie requisites 

 for a hunting morning, high did the hearts of ardent fox-hunters beat on Fridaj-. 

 Perhaps the air was rather cold and the fog was hanging about a little ; but the 

 crisp look of the ground, just tinged with frost, made ' old hands ' hug themselves 

 with delight in anticipation of the good scent that would surely follow, and which, 

 by-the-by, did not for once play them false. The hospitality of a certain well- 

 known fox-hu'iter having been proved, we trot off to Shallowford Gorse — a name 

 at which the followers of Diana bow the knee and worship. We try the powers 

 of our steeds up the fields to the covert in a sharp canter ; but even before us 

 are those well-known forms of men and boys on foot, who, although they cannot 

 expect to see anything but the very beginning of the sport, gallantly come miles 

 to the meet, and follow with a dogged perseverance only known to Englishmen. 

 What a peculiar power fox-hunting has over us, to be sure ! The other day I 

 saw a carter, whom at first sight you would have put down as a sturdy, phlegmatic 

 soul, and who would probably have replied, had you asked him the way, that he 

 didn't know, though no doubt he had trodden it for the last twenty years. Well, 

 this man was quietly going along the road, when suddenly he discovered that the 

 hounds were near. Instantly he rushed to the gate, leaving his horse and cart 

 in the middle of the road, stood on the rails till he saw the fox, then set up the 

 most hideous yell, tumbled over the gate head first, and rushed after the receding 

 animal at full speed, leaving his quadruped to the mercy of fate. But to return 

 to Shallowford, where we left our noble army. Not long have we to wait, though. 

 Scarcely have the hounds got in, ere the welcome cry proclaims that the 

 individual we seek has kindly consented to make an appearance. A yell, a cry 

 to the boys not to head him, a distant scream, and we know we are right, 

 that he is safely away, and we may give our excited steeds the run and go. 

 Ay, go! and go we do up to the Pirehill Lane, where we stay about two 



