OLD FRIENDS. 179 



the former feast, there neede"d nothing more to realise 

 the sterhng truth of Hearsay's glowing terms. 



Baggrave had been the meet, on a bright and rather 

 blustering morning, A passing storm drove our coat 

 collars up as, soon after midday, we neared John o' 

 Gaunt ; and at once we flew to condemning weather and 

 prospects of scent as if all ho})e had been washed away. 

 And yet men seemed to know exactly what was before 

 them. No sooner were they within a field of the covert 

 than there ensued a general scuttle to the middle ride ; 

 while the pack was taken as usual to draw from the 

 Tilton end of the staunch little covert. Not two minutes 

 were Vv'c kept in doubt. The hero was at home ; and 

 lively enough this time, he darted across the ride before 

 our faces — incurrins: immediately afterwards the nearest 

 possible chances of losing the Avhite-tipped brush he 

 flourished so defiantly. First he ran his head right 

 against tiie whip at the bottom corner ; then his second 

 effort was met by a tumultuous yell from a signal 

 box full of pointsmen — these gallery gods being perched 

 up aloft so as almost to overhang the covert. But all idea 

 of the incompatibility of railways with foxhunting has 

 long since passed away from us. We accept their 

 presence under helpless protest — but still we hunt, and 

 still we find room to ride. To see their railway tickets in- 

 scribed " Melton to Leicester, via Joltn o Gaunt " still 

 brings a groan from sportsmen of anything like mature 

 age — but, happily, one seldom hears them speak of 

 shifting their quarters lor lack of room to move. 



The huntsman's deep-voiced appeal — mandatory in- 



N 2 



