304 THE CREAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Seasox 



but FiiT, Captain Middleton, and Mr. G. Paget bored tbrough 

 its darkness on the left, while Mr. Cart, on the old gre}' mare 

 of the Oakham jumping j^rize, popped over a high palisade in 

 the ver}'- corner, and got the inside turn for a few fields. There 

 was only one hole — and that a mere smeuse — in the next 

 blackthorn wall ; but Sir Beaumont Dixie ducked his head and 

 plunged through it, with a certain loss of blood and hair, but with 

 considerable advantage to his followers. Half a dozen timber 

 and thorn variations brought the scurry over the Saxelby rail- 

 way tunnel ; and, three fields be3-ond hounds were over the gulf 

 known as the Saxelby Bottom. An easy on-and-off made this 

 amenable at the right point. Next came a choice between a 

 slipper)^ little stile, with the hedge meeting overhead, and with 

 silly sheep crowding among your horses legs, and the two side 

 fences, of j^lainer description if of more stalwart build. Rising 

 the hill, Firr, Captain Middleton, and Mr. Beaumont had an 

 un approached lead, thougli a dozen more men were on terms, 

 as for a moment the liuntsman cut a corner with his pack — 

 where a farmer had turned the fox half a field from his })ath. 

 Yet there was not a second Avasted, nor a second in which the 

 music was not going. Another mile of hurried galloping, 

 another mile of free fair fencing, and men stood hot and hajip}- 

 above Lord Aylesford's covert — two-and-twenty minutes from 

 the find, exacth^ twenty (if I measured it right) from covert to 

 covert. A few minutes later ii-lio-irJioop sounded over an open 

 earth. And now to dinner. 



A PULL FROM THE PUNCHBOWL. 



The Cottesmore run of Saturday (Januar}^ 3) may well 

 form the pith of my story. One hour and twenty minutes from 

 the Punchbowl, a seven-mile point, and a kill in the open — is 

 the outline ; and here are the particulars, as well as I can give 

 them. 



