AX AL'TUMN GALLOP. 23 



— leaving Bleakmore ami the railway below them on the 

 riglit. How now for your "honest oxer'"? Here it is 

 in its most laudable ruggedness — and, in plain Saxon, 

 an ugly beast it is too. The rail on the take-off side is 

 no excuse for the qualm tliat stabs you like the con- 

 science of a schoolboy caught cribbing his task. But the 

 high laid-fence shows its strong teeth e'en througli the 

 heavy foliage ; a ditch of unknown dimensions lies 

 beyond ; there is a whisper, too, of wire ; and any 

 number of predecessors are not likely to bring things to a 

 much lower level. The huntsman quickly makes up his 

 mind to tlie inevitable ; but his horse (brilliantly as he 

 carries him throughout) on this occasion whips round to 

 take time for a second thought, Mr. Brocklehurst clears 

 the whole difficulty a few yartls to the right, while the 

 CambridLceshire hero takes the office from Firr, and 

 makes a bold bid for victory. Post and rails, hedge and 

 ditch, are covered gallantly. But beyond them all, and 

 visible only I'rom mid air, glistens another stout ox rail. 

 " Fortv to one aiiainst Bendigo ! " shouts his familiar 

 friend as he himself lands in safety. But the only 

 response to the liberal offer is a loud cracking of timber, 

 a heavy flounder and another good man fallen on the 

 turf, blatters are a little simpler now ; and after seeing 

 the huntsman, Captain O'Neal, 31r. Peake, Mr. Cradock, 

 Mr. Alston, and two or three others, surmount the less 

 complicated difficulty, reader and I too may pull our- 

 selves together, put our panting beast through the same 

 process — by help of knee and heel against his well- 

 furnished sides — and even reach the others as, after 



