"IT IS OUR OPENING DAY." 



Feost ! There is no doubt about it. In this 

 variable cKmate (and surely it is growing more 

 variable than it used to be ?) one does not know 

 if — in spite of the almanack which declares that 

 it is October, a month that should have some 

 characteristic weather of its own — there is to be 

 a week of Indian summer or of what, about 

 Christmas time, is regarded as " seasonable 

 weather." It is late in October, truly enough, 

 as late as can be — the 31st, in fact ; but still a 

 man does not expect to see his wiudow-panes 

 impenetrable to sight, and to note, when at last 

 the blinds are drawn up, and the glass begins to 

 thaw a little, a real, white, wintry frost, which 

 awakens a dire suspicion that on this, " our 

 opening day," there may be no possibility of 

 riding. Such hard luck cannot be awaiting us 

 on this the morning of the first meet which has 

 been so eagerly anticipated ? 



We have been after the cubs, but this is to 

 real hunting what the rehearsal is to the per- 



