December Days 



The shortening days have had a sting of cold 

 in them that made itself felt on a dark ride 

 home on a tired horse, with the wind in one's 

 face all the way; the moon wading through 

 fleecy clouds, heavy and laden; and the sour 

 wind whistling and moaning through the leaf- 

 less trees are plain indications that the open 

 weather will not last so much longer. There 

 have been mornings when the roads have been 

 hard, though an hour's sunshine or driving rain 

 has made hunting possible. Sometimes, in- 

 deed, it has been necessary to wait till noon 

 before a start could be made, and once it seemed 

 as if the frost had come in earnest, though 

 happily it disappeared after hounds had been 

 kept in kennel one day. Since then there has 

 been a week of sour, wild weather, with driving 

 showers of rain and sleet from the north-east, 

 scent has been catchy and sport indifferent. 



Then suddenly comes an ominous calm ; 

 there is a lofty grey sky — one dull, monotonous 

 grey without the least relief. The wind, what 

 there is of it — it is not strong enough to blow 

 out a match — is from the north-east, and the 



8 9 



