52 How I Became a Sportsman. 



right stuff was wanting. I don't know where 

 his heart was, but it certainly was not in the 

 right place. I once saw him jump a gate 

 though, but it happened in this way : he went 

 up to a gate, and was reaching down to open it 

 but found it locked ; as he was just drawing 

 himself up, I suppose he must have touched 

 his horse with his long-necked spurs, for over 

 he popped in a moment ; but although taken 

 by surprise, the rider did not move from his 

 right place in the saddle, thus showing that his 

 seat was good and firm ; it only wanted better 

 nerve. 



I knew another gentleman of a totally dif- 

 ferent stamp, who took a house in the country 

 where I then lived, brought down some good 

 horses, and began to hunt when he was nearly 

 sixty years of age. He had been a London 

 merchant for many years, and had just retired 

 with a considerable fortune. He had, I dare 

 say, learned to ride early in life, and must have 

 had a natural love of horses and hounds, but 

 circumstances had probably prevented his enter- 

 ing into the pleasures of the chase. When he 

 first commenced hunting, although he seemed 

 to sit his horse very well, he could not manage 



