A DAY WITH THE DRAG 219 



a wild flounder, plunges up the bank, rams his big, 

 bony head into my chest and causes me to take up 

 a most undignified position, for nothing can look 

 much more aimless than to see the ardent sportsman 

 attired in boots and breeches, seated involuntarily 

 in the wet furrow of a ploughed field, his horse 

 standing over him in an apparently menacing 

 attitude. However, although I felt damped — and 

 was — the animal was out of what might have been 

 " a tight place," and I climbed into the saddle again 

 with muddy breeches, but a cheerful heart. To 

 catch hounds after this was, of course, out of the 

 question, but I jogged slowly across the field I was 

 in, and felt, I humbly confess, a thrill of unholy 

 joy, as from the farther side of the thick hedge 

 there, I heard a plaintive voice saying : 



" Come through the gap and give us a hand, old 

 fellow ; I've come down, busted both girths and a 

 stirrup leather, lost my curb chain and split my 

 br — waistcoat ! " 



I was happy again. I had a companion in 

 misfortune, and, better still, one in sorrier plight 

 than my own. By the time we had (as far as a 

 piece of string, two torn handkerchiefs and a neck- 

 tie, the thongs of both hunting crops, and a pair of 

 braces w^ould allow) repaired damages, lighted and 

 smoked a couple of cigars, and talked the day's 



