208 THE BEST SEASON ON RECORD. 



humanity to the nor' east wind, and banged tiieir poor 

 steeds along at tlie tail of the pack. Young horses would 

 only awake to the bitterness of the ordeal when, after 

 landing lightly once or twice on to velvety turf, their 

 next wide spring perhaps brought them with a loud 

 resounding concussion on to ground baked to very stone. 

 The cruel shaking might not succeed in cowing them at 

 the moment ; but, depend upon it, it would not be wiped 

 out of memory for many a day, even should no more 

 immediate effect become apparent. The old horses would 

 in many instances have none of it — the boldest of them 

 whipping round with a vehemence as alarming as it was 

 sometimes comical in its results, or, worse still, taking a 

 fall as a deliberate alternative. The Quorn on Monday 

 last, March 24th, ran more than fairly for twenty minutes 

 from Willoughby Gorse ; and a very sizeable little field 

 scampered after them to, and beyond, the village of 

 AVysall — refusing to recognize that the soil was in any- 

 thing but a pleasantly normal condition till a check 

 ensued, not far from Widmerpool. Then, and only then, 

 did the peculiarities of soil and temperature seem to dawn 

 upon them ; and they mopped their foreheads and betook 

 themselves to gates. Little more was done tliat day; 

 though, with a brace of foxes at the Curate, probably 

 only the ill luck of hounds hitting first upon the vixen 

 robbed them of a run, perhaps of another spin across the 

 Vale. It was not difficult, though, to extract a large 

 amount of enjoyment even from that brief midday hunt. 

 We take our pleasure now nuich as amid the more 



