TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston

or that my knowledge has since proved profitable;
but I knew Brightness from Brevity, Ramble from
Roguery, and Wavelet from Watercress, and this
enabled me to show an intelligent interest and to
share the Master's enthusiasm for his favourites; I
could speciously agree that, although Tempest was a
beautiful bitch to look at, she was by no means what
she might be when it came to hunting. Peerless, on
the other hand, was worthy of her appellation, and
frequently hit off the line when the others were at a
loss to know which way their fox had gone across a
bit of cold ploughland.

My regular visits to the Kennels, and the facility
with which I echoed the Master's ideas and opinions,
bolstered up my self-complacence and gave me a
certain reflected importance among the members of
the Hunt, which I should otherwise have lacked.
I now wore the Hunt button and was regarded as
being "in the know"; people like Colonel Hesmon
and Fred Buzzaway would ask me whether I could
tell them where the meets were likely to be the week
after next. A few words of praise from Denis were,
however, what I most wanted. Opportunities for
earning his approval were not numerous; but now
and again, when he was on a sticky jumper and I
happened to be with him in a run, he would shout
"Go on, George5'. Probably there was a big brambly
hedge to be got over, and I would cram at it, not
caring whether I took a heavy fall so long as I had
the privilege of giving him a lead; the bigger the hole
I made in the hedge the better pleased he was. He
was a strong and patient horseman, and since the
country was for the most part rough and "trappy"
and the going deep on the heavy clay soil, he rode
very deliberately at the fences. While everyone else

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