170 THE BEST SEASOX ON EECORD. 



Owston Village. The brook from Owston to Twyford 

 was struck at some kappy point where it was anytkiiig 

 but formidable, scarcely even recognisable. Every rider, 

 light or heavy, had to drive his utmost down each gentle 

 declivity ; and the latter aver hounds helped them not 

 a little, by making the pace hottest down the hills and 

 easing It ever so little on the brow of each ascent. It 

 would seem as if their fox, striving his utmost to make 

 U23 the wind for the Cottesmore woodlands, was driven 

 downward and on till he had no jDoint In the open country 

 before him. Now he passed the brick kilns, midway 

 between the villages of Somerby and Owston ; now he 

 reached the back of Somerby ; and now he found his 

 first momentary breathing time — while the fortunate few 

 made the most of the check, to turn to the wind, to pat 

 their lathering steeds on the neck (and each other, 

 figuratively, on the back), to count their numbers, and 

 consult their watches. I did not ask what they said, or 

 even what they thought. I know the one (so do you ; 

 for we too have perhaps found ourselves in similar happy 

 case) ; and I could guess the other — the natural outcome 

 of " Five and twenty minutes^ my boy, seven of us there, 

 and not another soul In sight ! I wouldn't take five 

 hundred^ no, not a tliousand, for the old horse." With 

 a burst of kindly sympathy he added, " How youd have 

 enjoyed It, old friend ! " or I must have bade him leave a 

 fool to himself, and had the rest another day (forgetting 

 in weakness and longing that 30 to 1 had been the least 

 odds against each successful competitor). Not that there 

 was the glow and the go in the rest of his narrative. 



