THE LEAF ON THE THORN. 11 



ill a lofty biillfincli. So it is easy to understand that tlie 

 prolonged detention of the many comrades, to whose 

 eventual coming we look forward with true and glad 

 anticipation, is not yet felt to be privation unalloyed. 

 Shooting (to the delights of which even the most rabid 

 of foxhunters need not be callous) is never, in the 

 fashion of the day and the current phases of the sport, 

 found more pleasantly than in the months of October 

 and November. So 'tis allowable to bid tliem Carpe 

 diem. And yet, methinks, I would rather have been in 

 a wet saddle on Friday than in a wet butt or even at a 

 hot corner. " Chill October " may be a reality ; but 

 cold October is an inapplicable term. An old shooting- 

 coat will turn an astonishing amount of rain ; a billycock 

 is a much more suitable incumbrance in wet weather 

 than a tall hat ; rough cords are much pleasanter when 

 soaked through and through than soapy leathers (and far 

 less likely to slip you out of your saddle into a ditch) ; 

 and — not the smallest consideration of all to the careful 

 and impecunious — you are not forced to choose between 

 two alternative but equally distasteful courses, viz., 

 either to submit a good hunting kit to the destructive 

 influences of a thorough wetting, or to brave public 

 opinion and set self-respect at defiance by appearing 

 among your fellow-men the one ill-clad ruffian of the 

 party. 



The best of this Friday was comprised in fifty minutes 

 of the afternoon. By one o'clock there could scarcel}^ 

 have been a dry skin among IMr. Coupland's fifty 

 followers, except in the case of two or three who clung 



