142 The Pytchley Hunt, Past and Present, [chap. iv. 



house, '^ the Squire " would order out in the cool of the 

 evening a lordly bowl of '^^ bishop/' a vinous compound 

 almost unknown in these degenerate days. Placed on a 

 side-table in the tent, the spiced mixture formed an eye- 

 opener for those about to wield the willow, and a solace 

 for those who had been constrained to lay it down. 



Whether or no this old-fashioned mark of hospitality is 

 more honoured in the breach than the observance is a 

 matter of opinion, but it was much appreciated and never 

 abused, and is much to be preferred to the detestable 

 practice of treating professionals to champagne at the 

 mid-day (or any) dinner. 



Since these days the Northamptonshire Cricket CI Lib 

 has risen into a higher and more complete stage of exist- 

 ence, and can now hold its own versus the ^^ M.C.C.," 

 and counties of repute in the cricketing world. The 

 Sulby Club, sharing the fate of its founder, has passed 

 away — like himself ever to be remembered with 

 emotions of pleasure, gratitude, and regret. 



Falling in with the spirit of the day, the subject of 

 this memoir by no means neglected the "science^' of: 

 self-defence. 



In the healthy and muscular country gentleman from 

 the Midlands, the famous " Tom Spring ^' found a pupil 

 of whom he might well be proud. His uninstructed 

 arm, even in his Eton days, had been a formidable 

 weapon of offence, but when science and strength came to 

 act in combination, the ^' rough ^^ who cheeked him on 

 the race-course or in the street was pretty sure to come 

 in for a bad quarter of an hour. One day at a cri<c;ket- 

 dinner held in the Grand Stand at Northampton, having 

 been informed that some ^^ roughs '' had got into a side- 



