156 HUNTING IN THE MIDLANDS 



Chippingtoii in order to contemplate the beauties 

 of nature, but to brace our nerves with the healthy 

 excitement of the chase. Full of misgivings we 

 descended to breakfast, in hunting toggery notwith- 

 standing. As the sun shone out with increased 

 brilliance we began to grow more cheerful. The 

 frost, we said, was nothing, and all trace of it would 

 be gone before noon. The waiter shook his head 

 dubiously, suggested that there was a good billiard- 

 table, and enquired as to the hour at which we 

 would like to dine. But the waiter, as the event 

 proved, was wrong, and we were still in the middle 

 of breakfast when the message of the huntsman of 

 the Chippington pack arrived — exactly what we 

 had each of us said. Of course the frost was noth- 

 ing : we had known as much ; and now the great 

 thing was to get breakfast over, and ''then to horse 

 away." 



After all there is nothing for comfort like the 

 old-fashioned hunting hotels, and unfortunately they 

 are decreasing in number every year. Still the 

 Lion at Chippington remains ; and I am happy 

 to say that I know of a few more like the Lion. 

 They are recognisable at a glance. You may tell 

 them by the lack of nineteenth century filagree 

 decoration which characterises their exterior, by the 

 cut of the waiters, by the knowing look of the 



