270 Tally ho, 



blooming condition, and I have never seen a more 

 beautiful lot of animals. 



A '^ field ^^ numbering between forty and fifty were 

 assembled, amongst whom I observed Mr. Stamp, Mr. 

 Patman, Mr. Philcox, Mr. Slimmer, and a young 

 gentleman on a chestnut horse, who seemed very much 

 at home with hounds, who, I was told was a son of Mr. 

 J. S. Clarke, the well-known actor, who trains up all 

 his children in the way they should go — that is if they 

 mean going with hounds ; Mr. Dupont, on a likely 

 looking thoroughbred that ought to make a hurdle 

 racer ; several oflScers of the 20th Hussars, and two 

 ladies, one of whom was mounted on a grand-looking 

 bay horse, with a rat tail, which looked like a per- 

 former. 



Mr. Steyning Beard, who hunts the hounds himself, 

 lost no time, and the hounds were speedily on the line 

 of a hare that had stolen away unobserved, but the 

 scent was cold, and they had to pick their way, step 

 by step, over the plough, but getting on better terms 

 with puss as they ran across the grass they went with 

 a will in the direction of the railway. Here my 

 attention was directed to a flight of rails on the side of 

 a steep hill, leading out of a belt of trees, over which 

 some half-dozen adventurous riders showed me their 

 heels, and I hardened my heart, and put my sturdy 

 little chestnut at it, who, though eager with hounds, 

 took me over an awkard fence in such form as to win 

 my entire confidence; though I admit I preferred 

 going in and out of a double to having a shy at a high 

 flight of rails which next presented itself. The hare, 

 however, doubled back, and went at a slapping pace 

 over hill and dale, and making for a small plantation, 



