390 THE CREAM OF LEICESTERSHIRE. [Season 



and the fence was easy enough. Next the hard turnpike, and 

 a hammering mile up it towards Clawson. After this only 

 Gillard, Captain Middleton (who must forgive reiteration), and 

 the first whip, really attending hounds in their quick passage 

 over a close flat meadow country towards the Harby Hills. The 

 farmers are fair, if rather fierce, in the way they build their 

 fences hereabouts, and there were a dozen neat strong stake- 

 and-bounds to be jumped in as many minutes, ere the village 

 of Hose (if my geography did not fail me) Avas passed, and the 

 field closed up. Quite one of the quickest, over oxer or 

 simpler hedge-and-ditch, was Mrs. Sloane- Stanley on ** Tip- 

 top" — a hunter long known to fame in Melton. It only 

 remains to be said that, before the Harby Hills, or even the 

 belt of ploughed ground beneath them, could be reached, 

 hounds were on their fox m a ditch ; and the scurry was over. 

 Hose Gorse and Kay Wood were drawn in vain ; and the day 

 wound up with an houi''s twisting run from Harby Gorse — the 

 last twenty minutes being over the grassy vale by Langar and 

 nearly to "SViverton. After various previous vicissitudes among 

 railways, canals, and other difficulties, they lost their fox at 

 Colston Basset ; and the INIeltonians nearly all lost their way 

 in the dark afterwards, narrowly escaping the fate of having to 

 camj) out dinnerless (an experience that would have been 

 altogether out of keeping with the regime of the little metropolis 

 in the present day). 



We now come to Monday last, November 14th, with the 

 Quorn at Widmerpool New Inn. I have no wish to inflict a 

 heavy volume on readers who are good enough to dip into my 

 jottings. But such a day's sport as Monday's must not be left 

 miwritten. There were two runs, two foxes fairly lolled in the 

 open ; and the first gallop was as handsome and good as ever 

 man rode to. A burning scent and a beautiful country made 

 the day complete. W^idmerpool, as already mentioned in pass- 

 ing, lies on the high ridge of the Quorn country, looking over 

 much of the prettiest of the Belvoir Vale. If a fox will but 

 take the lower level, you must be on gTound over which it is a 



