A Week at Melton. 53 



the fox breaks away at a swingeing pace, witli the 

 pack in full cry close to his brush ; bearing to the 

 right for a while he then turns and faces the Burro^ 

 Hills, making for the Punch Bowl cover, quitting 

 which he goes through the Spinneys, and, leaving 

 Little Dalby Hall behind, goes a short ring, and is 

 lost at Pickwell after a run of 20 minutes, or there- 

 abouts. The find was one of the prettiest I ever saw, 

 and the fox a splendid fellow was bound to go the 

 pace as the hounds were close at him. Then we trot 

 off to a cover known as ^^ Sir Francis Burdett's ^^ — a 

 sure find. In a few minutes a challenge is heard, 

 and a fox breaks cover, going away at a racing pace 

 for the Burro^ Hills. At the very first fence down 

 comes Mrs. Chaplin, her horse rolling on to her, but 

 no further damage is sustained than a disordered state 

 of the back hair and displacement of her hat ; and 

 finding her properly attended to by some gallant 

 cavaliers, I gallop away to the left of the hounds. 

 Rarely if ever have I seen a prettier sight than when 

 the hounds, having run along the ridge of the hills, 

 came down the slope at a rattling pace, making for 

 Little Dalby Hall, and never have I seen men ride 

 harder to hounds than some did on this occasion. 

 Skirting the Punch Bowl, the fox runs for the planta- 

 tions adjoining the hall, from which I view him away, 

 making for the open. ^^Hold hard, sir, hold hard; 

 let the hounds have time,^' are the sounds that salute 

 my ears as I wave my hat in order to lay the hounds 

 on to the scent ; and I subsequently claim those 

 remarks as proofs of my being " there or thereabouts,^^ 

 but unfortunately the fox is headed back by some foot 

 people, and running through the cover breaks at the 



