JOHN WARDE AND HIS PACK. 21 



won't beat me to-dav, Dick!" "Won't I, sir," was the 

 reply. " If you do, I'll give you the horse," said the gen- 

 tleman. The one rode for the horse, the other for his 

 honour. At last they came to an unjurapable place, which 

 could only be crossed by going between the twin stems of a 

 tree, barely wide enough to admit a horse. At it went 

 Dick, throwing his legs across his horse's withers, and got 

 through. The horse was sent to him next morning. 



While Mr. Warde hunted the Craven country, Mr. Smith 

 once went during a hard frost to see his celebrated pack. 

 The ground was covered with snow and was as hard as cast 

 iron, but at the pressing solicitation of Mr. Smith, the old 

 Squire of Squerries* permitted Neverd, who then hunted 

 his hounds, to take them to Winding Wood, a covert of 

 Mr. Dundas's, just to find a fox, but with positive orders 

 not to let them leave covert. Tom Smith was riding Blue 

 Ruin, a favourite hunter of ]\Ir. Warde's (who also rode 

 out), and as soon as they found their fox, he slipped a couple 

 of guineas into the huntsman's hands and told him to hand 

 over his horn. No sooner was this done than the fox broke 

 covert, and away went Smith sailing by the side of the 

 hounds. The scent, as is often the case in a frost, was 

 breast high, and regardless of the state of the ground, the 

 young squire, as usual, took every fence that presented itself 

 After a very sharp run, the hounds swung back into the 

 wood where they had found. Here the horsemen found old 

 Warde in a towering passion, exclaiming that his hounds 

 would be cut to pieces, and his favourite horse spoilt. " Only 

 give me five minutes more and I will kill your fox," said 

 Mr. Smith ; which being assented, or rather submitted, 

 to, for denial was useless, was soon accomplished. Tom 

 Smith brought out the brush, and presented it with this 

 flattering speech : " Your hounds, sir, are the best I ever rode 

 by the side of, and I will give you three hundred guineas 



* The family seat in Kent. 



