1872—73.] A RED LETTER WEEK. 81 



the whole week's hunting has a very local and doubtful mterest. 

 The Leicestershire squire, who measures every run on his 

 ordnance map immediately on his return home, who will dip 

 his finger in his port and trace every turn again on his 

 mahogany, and who looks upon the course of a fox as the 

 central interest of a hunt, may perchance wish for solid topical 

 information. But the busy merchant, after his week's work 

 (whose partner is now enjoying the yearly holiday that for him 

 has just expired) ; the soldier back from " first leave " in his 

 wooden kennel at Aldershot ; the parson seeking relaxation 

 between his services ; and the colonist, with his heart still in 

 the sports of the Old Country — these care less for intricate 

 route-tracing than for the picturing of such trifles as recall 

 their own happy experiences to memory. 



The party that answered the summons of the " members 

 card," announcing a bye-day at Brooksby Hall for Thursday 

 (Jan. 9), would have been a large field in many countries; but, 

 what is always much pleasanter, it was a field altogether free 

 from the rough element that crops up at an advertised meet 

 near a large manufacturing town. In fact, there were nearly all 

 of the Quorn kingdom there who would lend grace to a day's 

 hunting or do justice to a good run, while there were none of 

 those whose presence might mar either. 



The morning might be passed over without mention, had it 

 not been marked by a most unfortunate accident to Lady Ida 

 Hope. During a slow hunting run after an outlymg fox, 

 which occupied from about twelve to one o'clock, she was 

 thrown at a fence, and it was found that the small bone of her 

 arm was broken. 



Time enough there was, as hounds left Cream Gorse on their 

 fox, to jump off" and unfasten the gate out of the lane, through 

 which could be seen quartering after quartering of green grass, 

 stretching down the valley and clothing the slopes beyond. Soon 

 every ridge was carrying its burden ; sweeping down to charge 

 each fence in double and treble line. The short distance to the 

 Melton turnpike road had both quality and variety to recom- 



