THE NEW YEAR IX. 1^9 



put to shame, and are now forced to liold a double-roiind- 

 choker to be the only proper throat hxsh for hunthig-men 

 over twenty-and-three. No, these upper teens are a 

 splendid body of rising chivalry — that will replace us and 

 oust us, long before we want to clear out, or have even 

 reached the stage of heading foxes by " sinking the wind." 

 But it is noticeable at this festive and family period that 

 men, with whom "only the other day" we were con- 

 tentedly classed as "young fellows," are now to be seen 

 each with his ruddy offspring (single, double, or in 

 triplets) behind him— the youngsters on shaggy ponies, 

 which cheerfully and confidingly hob-nob against the 

 paternal hocks and make our blood run cold by titivating 

 the flank of the most notorious kicker in the field. 

 Papa's quiver would probably stand a call upon it quite 

 as readily as his sorely tried purse. But Providence has 

 fortunately more consideration for the former than for the 

 latter — and the small Nimrods survive to be paid for, in 

 spite of all the perils of a Quorn Friday. 



The Scraptoft fox turned at Ingarsby after his first 

 mile, and when there was no apparent need for his doing 

 so. Afterwards he had little choice, as he found himself 

 amid chains of carriages and streams of horsemen. But 

 stealing away from the entanglement he made nearly a 

 six-mile point to Gaddesby, by way of Barkby Holt, and 

 was rattled to death in three cheese-plate circles rour.d a 

 stiff close country twixt Gaddesby and Queniboro'. (An 

 hour and a half of hot hard work, at least for the man 

 who had to kill him.) I wish the same end had been in 

 store for the Ashby Pastures fox of the afternoon — the 



