18 THE QUORN HUNT 



and Sir James Musgrave's horses came out in their 

 usual excellent condition. 



Every one who knows anything about hunting has 

 heard of the larking home to Melton after a poor day, 

 and Dick Christian has left it on record that he was 

 often "the fox." On one occasion, after the hounds had 

 met at Melton, a long tiring day ensued. Two foxes 

 were certainly killed ; but they showed no sport. When 

 the hounds were ordered home (this was in Sir Harry 

 Goodricke's time), half-a-dozen men started to find their 

 way home to Melton. Lord Gardner took the lead, and 

 at one place came down a cropper, and lost his horse ; but 

 instead of rushing off on foot and crying, " Catch my 

 horse! pray catch my horse!" which Assheton Smith said 

 was such low form, he simply waited for the next man, 

 who chanced to be Lord Wilton. As soon as the latter 

 had cleared the fence he pulled up, Lord Gardner jumped 

 up behind him, and the pair went sailing away after the 

 loose horse, which some one eventually caught. Lord 

 Gardner then mounted his own hunter, and carried on 

 the larking to Melton. 



This chapter may perhaps be fitly closed with a 

 reproduction of the late Mr. Bromley Davenport's 

 spirited verses. 



THE DREAM OF AN OLD MELTONIAN 



I am old, I am old, and my eyes are grown weaker, 



My beard is as white as the foam on the sea, 

 Yet pass me the bottle, and fill me a beaker, 



A bright brimming toast in a bumper for me ! 

 Back, back through long vistas of years I am wafted, 



But the glow at my heart's undiminished in force, 

 Deep, deep in that heart has fond memory engrafted 



Those quick thirty minutes from Ranksboro' Gorse. 



