126 MY FIRST DAY'S FOX-HUNTING 



pointed for the meet. There was a good muster of 

 ladies and gentlemen on horseback (some ten or 

 fourteen of the gentlemen in scarlet coats), and a 

 condescending old gentleman with grey hair, neatly 

 trimmed whiskers, and rosy cheeks, remarked that 

 there was a " good field," but I couldn't see it. All 

 that I could see in the shape of a field was a small 

 patch of turnips enclosed with a stone wall, the 

 remainder of the surrounding country being com- 

 mon and wood, or, as I afterwards learned to call 

 it, " cover." I soon began to appreciate my Iron 

 Duke, for I found that he was the tallest horse 

 there, and his legs seemed as light as an antelope's in 

 comparison with the legs of the other animals, some 

 of which seemed almost as heavy as cart-horses'. 



The clock of the village church struck eleven, 

 and three or four of the men in scarlet began to 

 whip the dogs to make them go into the wood. I 

 thought it was the proper thing to imitate their 

 example, and seeing one of the dogs scrambling up 

 the wall I instantly rode up and gave him what I 

 thought a " lift up behind " with my whip. To my 

 astonishment the animal, instead of going over into 

 the wood, tumbled down at my feet and yelped 

 most piteously. Iron Duke, not liking the noise, 

 turned round suddenly and kicked out, and the 

 hound had an almost miraculous escape of having 



