THE NEW YEAR IN. 123 



is tlie only one of a straiglit and superb gallop. Recog- 

 iiising familiar ground as we go, we find ourselves 

 opening two of the bridle gates by wliicli we canter from 

 Melton to a meet at Piper Hole. Now we are bearing 

 down upon the Spinney of Scalford Bog (the fences 

 liappily diminishing in size as jumping power fades) ; and 

 now Capt. Ashton views the beaten fox once more just 

 before hounds. At the little hamlet of Wykeham, mid- 

 way between the villages of Scalford and Goadby Mar- 

 wood, foot-people are running, shouting, and pointing on 

 both sides. One fox has passed between- the houses ; 

 but the hounds never leave their game, race him up the 

 road, and dash into Goadby Gorse — only to worry and 

 tear at the tiles of the artificial earth instead of wetting 

 their teeth on his savoury sides. So a gallant fox lives 

 ■ — after as true and honest a gallop as ever did credit to 

 the Quorn, or helped to make a season famous. 



But seldom does it happen that a day boasting of one 

 great gallop is blessed with another of almost equal 

 merit. In some respects the second of to-day eclipsed 

 the first. It was not so straight ; nor was it so decisive. 

 But hounds were going fast for a full hour before 

 checking at all — having of course changed foxes at some 

 period or otlier of the run. Had the two events taken 

 place on different days we should certainly have credited 

 the greater part of both to the same fox. As it is, we 

 cannot but believe the two heroes to have been mend)ers, 

 if not of the same flunily, at least of the same foraging 

 party. 



"Wclby Fishpond is a combinate covert of willowbed 



