196 THE CREAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Season 1876—77. 



minutes afterwards tlie first whip arrives, leading liis horse. 

 When Neal takes them in liand tlie chance, or rather the cer- 

 tainty, has been lost ; and though twent}' minutes later lie 

 hears of his fox crawling and lying down half a mile aAvay, the 

 information leads to no result. Some thirty-five minutes was 

 the final burst, let me repeat, and the rim one hour and 

 twenty-five. So as grand a fox as ever faced the open lived 

 for another day. Let us hope he found a warm shelter for his 

 stifiened limbs and wearied frame that night. 



If 3'ou will look over the names, reader, with which I have 

 made so free, and count up those to whom no accident befell, 

 you Avill reckon but seven or eight as the number who " lived " 

 and rode tlie run. First to join these before the end were 

 Custance and Sir Beaumont Dixie. 



Now my story is finished. I trust it is clear ; I believe it is 

 accurate (so far as an individual may assume to relate all of a 

 general action), but I wish it had been written by the gallant 

 author, who was one of the foremost throughout — the only man 

 in England who can really write a run. Certain it is that 

 lianksboro's laurel wreath holds no fairer sprig than the gallop 

 of Saturday, Jan. 13, 1877. 



Oh, glory ot youth ! consolation of age ! 



Sublimest of extasies under the sun ! 

 Though the veteran may linger too long on the stage, 



Yet he'll drink a last toast to a foxhunting run. 

 And oh ! young descendants of ancient top-sawyers ! 



By your lives to the world their example enforce ; 

 "Whether landlords, or parsons, or statesmen, or lawyers, 



Eidc straight, as they rode it from Ranksboro' Gorse. 



