A WEEK AT MELTON 55 



there may be a fresh fox, and he may then run up over 

 the railroad and past Quenby Hall, a fine old house 

 which will catch your eye even in the excitement of 

 the chase, and be marked down in your memory half 

 unconsciously as a useful landmark. 



On another day you may find yourself at Gaddesby, 

 and the Hall will seem strangely familiar until you 

 recollect that you have seen the prints of it, from Mr. 

 G. D. Giles's clever pictures, in some printseller's 

 window. The country round is grass, the fences are 

 strong but fair, and the gates swing easily on their 

 hinges if the fences are, as they may be, too big for 

 your early morning resolution. Many men, as we know, 

 go well in the evening, who cannot, or perhaps I should 

 say will not, do much in the morning. 



You may see hounds draw Barkby Holt, or ride the 

 two miles, a very frequent and never stale ten minutes 

 or so, to Baggrave. Possibly Scraptoft is once more 

 the fox's point, and then, if you are quick, there are 

 a good many fair rails in the otherwise stiff fences. 

 Other people, however, besides yourself like to see what 

 is the other side and will make for the rails, and you 

 may have the agonising experience of waiting your 

 turn while the musical ripple of hound music dies 

 away in the distance. What perils we go through in 

 order to lose a run, when it is really much safer as well 

 as pleasanter to ride straight ! A post and rails in a 

 corner, albeit not big, are no safer when twenty or 

 thirty horses have poached up the take off, than a 

 larger fence jumped from sound and springy turf ; but 

 some people never can get rid of their dislike of the 

 harsh outline of a well-grown blackthorn. Perhaps 

 this is the reason why huntsmen are so bold. They 

 have their hounds to look to, and, having once made 

 up their minds that the fence is to be crossed, never look 



