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Full text of "TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston"

he was short-sighted he frequently fell on his head
and gave me the satisfaction of watching him emerge
from a ditch, mud-stained and imprecating.) He took
no interest in anything except horses and hunting,
and it was difficult to believe that he had ever learnt
to read or write.

He was one of a small contingent who fancied them-
selves as hard riders. Owing to the character of the
country they always had to be looking for something
to jump, whether the hounds were running or not,
and they were often in trouble with Lord Dum-
borough for "larking" over unnecessary fences. In
this they were conspicuous, for the other followers of
the Hunt were a pusillanimous lot of riders, and there
was always a queue of them at the gaps, over which
they bobbed and bounced like a flock of sheep.
Musing on my disappointing experiences, I decided
that next week I would go and have a day with the
Potford Hounds who were no further off than the
Dumborough. They were said to be short of foxes,
but Dixon had heard that their new Master had been
showing good sport.

Elaborate arrangements had to be made for my
day with the Potford. The distance to the meet was
nearly fourteen miles, and Dixon decided that the
best plan was for him to ride Harkaway over the
night before. This outing was very much to his taste,
and it was easy to imagine him clattering import-
antly into the yard at the Bull Inn with Harkaway's
rug rolled on the saddle in front of him, and doing
everything that was humanly possible to make the
old horse comfortable in the strange stable. It is

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