xx LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



you doing there ? Do you think YOU can catch the fox ?" — A 

 breathless silence ensues. — At length a whimper is heard in 

 the cover, like the voice of a dog in a dream : it is Flourisher, 

 and the Squire cheers him to the echo. In an instant a 

 hound challenges — and another — and another. 'Tis enough. 

 "TALLY-HO !" cries a countryman in a tree . To face page 48 



IV. TALLY-HO AND AWAY.— " He's gone," exclaims Lord 

 Alvanley, and clapping spurs to his horse, in an instant is in 

 the front rank. As all good sportsmen would say, " Ware, 

 hounds ! " cries Sir Harry Goodricke. " Give them time," 

 exclaims Mr. John Moore. " That's right," says Mr. Osbal- 

 deston, " spoil your own sport, as usual." " Go along," roars 

 out Mr. Holyoake, "there are three couple of hounds on the 

 scent." "That's your sort," says Billy Coke. A turn and 

 a momentary loss of scent in the few hounds that have shot 

 ahead, joins head and tail together, and the scent being good, 

 every hound settles to his fox ; the pace gradually improves ; 



VIRES ACQUIRIT EUNDO ; A TERRIBLE BURST IS THE 

 RESULT To face page 96 



V. THE PACE BEGINS TO TELL.— After running at best 

 pace for nineteen minutes the hounds come to a fault, and for 

 a moment the fox has a chance. The Squire hits him off like 

 a workman, and the pack again settle to the scent. Some 

 begin to show symptoms of distress. Two horses are seen 

 loose in the distance, a report is flying about that one of the 

 field is badly hurt, and something is heard of a collar-bone 

 being broken, others say it is a leg ; but the pace is TOO GOOD 

 to inquire. A cracking of rails is now heard, and one gentle- 

 man's horse is to be seen resting, nearly balanced, across one 

 of them, his rider being on his back in the ditch, which is on 

 the landing side. "Who is he ?" says Lord Brudenell to Jack 

 Stevens. "Can't tell, my lord ; but I thought it was a queerish 

 place when I came o'er it before him." It is evidently a case 

 of peril, but the pace is TOO GOOD to afford help To face page 128 



VI. "SNOB" IS BEAT— "Snob" all this time has gone quite in 

 the first flight, and is here in the best of company. Wishing, 

 however, to out-Herod Herod, and to have a fine story to tell 

 when he gets home, he pushes to his speed on ground on 

 which all Leicestershire men are careful, and the death- 

 warrant of the little bay horse is signed. It is true, he gets 

 first to the gate, and has no idea of opening it ; sees it con- 

 tains five new and strong bars, that will neither bend nor 

 break ; has a great idea of a fall, but no idea of refusing ; 

 presses his hat firmly on his head, and gets his whip-hand at 

 liberty to give the good little nag a refresher ; but all at once 

 he perceives it will not do. When attempting to collect him 

 for the effort, he finds his mouth dead and his neck stiff; 



