1874-75.] A RING FROM THORPE TRUSSELS. 161 



all that is impetuous) I must "jump into the small of your 

 back," as they have it on the less ceremonious side of the 

 Channel. Lose no time in getting into, and out of, Ashby Pas- 

 tures ; don't go round it. In medio tutissimus ibis, here as in 

 most other choices of conduct ; and if you reach Thorpe 

 Trussels without a blowing horse, I can only say you are better 

 mounted than we who follow you — though we have only been 

 galloping twenty minutes. You won't grudge the fact of its 

 being a ring, certainly not if the country is new to you ; and 

 when, ten minutes later, j'^ou pull up at the sand-holes at 

 Twyford Village, you will not be sorry that your second horse 

 has only been trotting along the inside of the circle. And the 

 fact reminds me of one of my pet declamations, viz., that 

 against second horsemen and their illdoings — not mine only, 

 but that of all who have hunting at heart, whether they flaunt 

 their penmanship or no. The fallacy (let alone the resultant 

 mischief to others) of attempting to get your second horseman 

 to " nick in " in the middle of a run is now so fully recognised 

 that the almost invariable and peremptory order is to " ride 

 quietly along the roads and bring my horse up cool for the 

 second run." So firmlj^, too, is the principle gaining ground 

 that there was nothing solitary in the instance of Friday, when, 

 on a pig-headed second horseman invading wheat (in a manner 

 that, however unnecessary, was freel}^ licensed a few seasons 

 ago), the whole field set up a chorus that might make him 

 shirk bread for the rest of his hfe, if shame were in him. Not 

 that farmers are appearing a whit more captious about their 

 wheat — on the contrary, as evinced by the same day. There is 

 one, by name — well, never mind his name, there is onlj^ one who 

 lives and farms at Ingarsby — who, on the cry "Ware wheat" 

 being raised on his land, ejaculated "Never mind the wheat, 

 gentlemen, 'tis but forty shillings a quarter after all ! " 



On Tuesday, March Gth, Melton had no hunting ; which 

 was borne with a chastened spirit after the protracted frosts of 

 the late winter. Pigeon-shooting being now entirely confined 

 to the summer, cock-fighting being restricted by a law whose 



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