90 Memoir of Tom Smith, 



but tliey lield him on his horse until he got 

 home, when he was bled, and carried insensible 

 to bed. In three weeks he was again in the 

 saddle, when he was told by some of his 

 friends that they had ridden through the door- 

 way which he had cleared. This was cer- 

 tainly a most remarkable leap ; but Mr. Smith 

 is so far from being proud of it, that he never 

 mentions it, and when others do, he condemns 

 it as an act of wanton folly, which he would 

 be sorry that any one should imitate. He 

 rode the General for seventeen seasons, and 

 then gave him to an old quiet coursing friend, 

 who had him for five years, and then found 

 him one morning dead in the stable. 



In the first year of his Mastership of the 

 Craven, where, as has been mentioned, Mr. 

 "Warde preceded him, Mr. Smith killed a fox 

 which was so old that it had not a single tooth 

 in its head. One of the Himt met Mr. Warde 

 shortly after at Hatchett's Hotel, and making 

 a very solemn face, inquired, '^ Why, Warde, 



