BIDING TO HOUNDS. 77 



Beaufort, who was a keen and practical sports- 

 man, but who did not Hke jumping, and had tlie 

 courage to refrain sedulously. He used to say 

 of a neighbour of his, who was not so constant, 

 *' Jones is an ass. Look at him now. There he 

 is, and he can't get out. Jones does not like 

 jumping, but he jumps a little, and I see him 

 pounded every day. I never jump at all, and I'm 

 always free to go where I like." Jones ought 

 never to have jumped, for if a hunting man be firm 

 neither in his seat nor his intentions, the prospect 

 of his coming to grief is well-nigh a certainty. 



Some men love the sport while they hate the 

 fences, and of these there is one very notable 

 example, whose name will at once occur to many 

 readers. Mr. Jorrocks was an enthusiast. " Oh, 

 how that beautiful word * fox ' gladdens my 'eart 

 and warms the declinin' embers of my age ! " 

 the fat little grocer said ; and he meant it. The 

 horse and the hound were made for each other, 

 and Nature threw in the fox as a connecting 

 link between the two, was the opinion of the 

 master of the Handley Cross Hounds. Mr. 

 Jorrocks dreamed of the chase, as he told his 

 hearers on a famous occasion. He saw foxes 

 in visions sitting on his counterpane, and his 

 nightmares were that he was pursuing one, that 

 he could see him crawling along a hedgerow. 



