April Glories 



track. You plod slowly on, for you cannot go 

 at any pace ; all your wits and all your horse's 

 are necessary to keep you straight. Darkness 

 is at hand — at last it is here. Surely you must 

 have gone more than two miles ; can you have 

 lost your way? Suddenly the horse gets out 

 of the heather on to a bit of short grass ; you 

 cannot see it, but you can feel he is off the 

 moor and hear the water squelch out of the 

 grass as he steps on it. Then he comes to a 

 little elevation — it looks something monstrous 

 in the thick fog — he hesitates a moment, and 

 drops down into the road, and he gives a whinny 

 of delight when he feels the hard macadam 

 under his feet ; and once off the moor the fog 

 seems to lift. There, some two miles in front 

 of you are the lights of the little market town 

 that lies on your homeward way, glittering 

 against the sky ; and if you are a humane and 

 a wise man, as no doubt you are, being a 

 sportsman, you will give your good horse a 

 bucket of gruel when you get to that town, and 

 you won't forget yourself. 



But these difficulties are not to be encoun- 



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