1872—73.] MARKET HARBORO'. 89 



A i^retty ball room and a cool one, good music, good manage- 

 ment, and good company are all necessary elements of success ; 

 but it is more than this — it is the presence of a cheery good- 

 feeling (emanating from the existence of a common interest 

 and a common source of pleasure), and the total absence of 

 the exclusiveness of clique or party feeling, that make the 

 Harboro' ball what it is — the best hunt ball in England. 

 Everybody seemed bent on hunting with the Pytchley on the 

 morrow, and on a doubt being expressed as to its practicability, 

 the master was chased round the room by importunates as 

 though he numbered the clerk of the weather among his hunt 

 servants. Actual frost, however, held off as long as the 

 programme lasted ; scarcely anybody^ therefore believed in its 

 coming, and almost with one accord they danced out an hour 

 of " extras," happy in the belief that a day's hunting must work 

 off all ill effects. 



Well, it did freeze with daylight, but thawed again so quickly, 

 that the snow remaining from Wednesday night's downfall 

 could be the only plausible hindrance. By the way, I should 

 have mentioned that Mr. Tail by, waited upon only by the 

 Messrs. Gosling, Mr. A. Murietta, and one or two others, had 

 eked out a very fair hunting run this day (Thursday), though 

 jumping and quick riding were impossible, and gateways were 

 drifted in some places girth-deep. This was from Shangton 

 Holt, and was comprised in a ring towards Norton, hounds 

 floundering through the hedgerows, and horses throwing snow- 

 balls up at their riders' heads. 



On Friday morning, therefore, a strong force set out from 

 Harboro', arrayed in no doubtful garb, but in full dress and 

 confidence, and wended their way to CHpston Windmill. 

 Some of the ditches were choked, and somewhat terrifying to 

 those who meditated crossing them ; but these were the excep- 

 tion, and the turf itself was clean and soft in the Clipston 

 neighbourhood. However, twelve o'clock arrived, but no 

 hounds : one o'clock, and not even a whip ; so at last the 

 matter was given up in despair, and all hands returned sorrow- 



