1879—80.] ASH AVEDNESDAY WITH THE BELVOIII. 'M? 



your old hat down as hard as its many crushers will allow ! 

 Squeeze your way as rudely tlirough that beastly handgate as 

 you think an apology will cover. Down the slope for Market 

 Overton, the grass field is already outspread with gallopers. 

 Xot a hound to be seen; and men appear to be jumping 

 wildh' outwards— left and right and forward. Three or four 

 red coats, and as many black, are glimmering, glancing, 

 right ahead. These must be the guiding stars. Men never 

 ride as fast as that unless they have got a start above their 

 fellows. 



Timber is the fencework of the Market Overton Vale. Often 

 it is light and airy ; but, by all that is holy, they have been 

 putting new rails down everywhere to prepare for to-day. The 

 leaders, too, must be possessed with a sudden," insatiable fury. 

 They seem to look upon everything wooden as a challenge. 

 Not a gate is swung ; but two are jumped in immediate succes- 

 sion — and these are Leicestershire gates in verity and strength. 

 In five minutes there must have been full fifteen timbered 

 jumps — hounds lancing forward all the while to a scent extra- 

 ordinary. At such moments 'tis impossible to do more than 

 struggle your own afterway, giving little notice to others — un- 

 less it is to the good pilot on the chesnut, setting example for 

 the 3'oung one in his wake, fence after fence (for horses are as 

 imitative as, and much less craven than, their masters). Messrs. 

 Hugh Lowther, G. Drummond, jMr. Rhodes, and Lord Esme 

 Gordon, are, with Captain Smith, taking the timber rapidh', and 

 out the lane cleverly by means of a stile in and a stile out. 

 Quickest after them, I must be allowed to mention Mrs. Candy, 

 gallantly carried and gallantly riding. In and out of a roadside 

 garden, on to the grass flat through which runs the Oakham 

 Canal. Tally ho ! he crosses the big open pasture right across 

 the horsemen ; while the}' pull up to breathe, and the pack, 

 catching up ever}'- yard of his line, race on, and race back, to 

 sweep the meadow with a front fifty 3'ards broad. This is a 

 scenting — this is a heavenly da}'. Fallow nor stubble, footpath 

 nor fence, can hinder or thwart their gay noisy course. The 



