My First Pox Hunt.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 16, 2 March 1870, Page 7

My First Pox Hunt.

(BV AM QJLD SFORT3MA.W). I am an oldish fellow now, at least What voung people call old, although I am not quite three score years of age ; yet I have an excellent memory, and can recall without difficulty the uvents that occurred when I was a boy. In my library there is an $fJ-lookiug piece of furry stuff that carefully mounted and preserved, Vmch at* old English sportsman would at once recognise as the " brush." Now, about this brush I have something to say. It is a trophy from my young days; and "thus, as sportsmen make a brush out of a

tail, I will make a tale out of the brush. It was when I was about nineteen years of age that I was asked to spend my .■Christmas vacation with an uncle who lived 'in.Surrey. This was a great treat, for my uncle Edward was very rich, much more so than my own father. He was fond of hunting and shooting, and liked people to share his sport with him. He kept several .capital horses, had extensive grounds, and a stream of water running near his house. I was considered by my brothers very lucky when I was asked to uncle Edward's, for he seldom invited his nephews, because my father was ©ot very good friends *ith 3iim.

I rejvched N«tstone Hall, as his house -was called, jiist as it was getting dusk, and was welcomed by my uncle, who met me. He showed me the drawing-room, and then pointed the way-to mfwn"rooiu. I knew; that he was very fond of what "niy fathercalled "state," andrusefLaf alene, ; always> to dine in silk stockings, Vilyier buckles,;' and frilled shirts ;{ so J. took iojore jthaii .ordinary care with my toilet, and made my way up to the drawiag-^oom. Uncle Edward was a widower who had ■only one son alive. This son, George, was ;not a favourite with any,one of us,; for he was what we call a and very purse-proud. He was two years older :than I was, and so treated me. like a bov. He had been at our house two or three ;times, but we didn't get on well at all. He was at home, 1 knew, and this was -one reason why I had been asked, as he was an Oxford man, and now spending his vacation at home.

I entered the drawing-room, expecting to find my uncle or cousin there, but was irather surprised to find only a young lady tsomewhat about my own age. She was standing beside the piano turning over a bundle of music, and did not .see me when I first entered : I thus had •time to observe her without interruption, I must own that at the period to which I (refer, I was ready and willing to admire .any young lady who was not decidedly rugly or disagreeable ; and thus, when at a glance T saw a rather tall, elegant, handsome girl, T was half in love in half a •minute, and wholly in love in a whole minute.

As I walked across towards the fireplace, .that natural rendezvous in a room, the lady turned her head, and seeing me, looked •earnestly for an instant, whilst I bowed and felt rather foolish; for I scarcely knew whether to speak or remain silent, as I had not been introduced, and at nineteen we are all at times a little awkward in ladies' ■society. She, however, quickly set me at •ease, for with a smile she came forward .and held out her hand, saying, " You "must be Harry, 1 suppose, for no other stranger is expected."

I need not repeat all the conversation that followed, nor how I discovered that the young lady was Katie Beaton, the •only daughter of a neighbour who lived at the Manor-house, how she did not like my ■cousin much, but " doated " on riding, and ho at she had many other tastes much more icommon amongst young ladies in the country thirty years ago, than they are at the present time.

During the ten minutes that we were ■together Katie and I became excellent friends, and when my uncle came in, followed by Mr Beaton, we needed no introduction. Soon afterwards, George came in with Mrs Beaton and three or four more visitors, who had come to spend a few days 4-t the Hall.

George gave me a rather condescending Mm> of welcome ; hoped I was getting on at School—l was at Eton in those daysenquired after those at home, but did not wait to hear an answer, and then endea voured to engross Katie, During dinner it was arranged that on the day after the next we were all to go flut with the hounds, the meeting being within four miles of the house. Katie was delighted at this, and informed me that nothing pleased her so much as a scamper after the hounds.

[ On the following morning I went round | the stable with Uncle Edward and George, ; and as we looked at the various animals, some in loose-boxes, some in stalls, I was asked which I would like to ride, I immediately made my selection, for a bright bay called " Duke" had attracted my eye. as soon as I oaught a glimpse of him. He was rather a small horse, but had large bone, although evidently thorough-bred ; he was a picture to look at, had a beautiful little head, a large prominent eye, immense nostrils, and was large in girth. I intimated at qnce that if I might choose, I iwpuld prefer to have a mount on " Duke." iK T'On 'Bu,ke!'" said George, with a

laugh ; " why he'd break your neck in no time, and run away with you into the bargain. I like that idea. You had better be content with ' Peggy' there ; she's more fitted for you." , I was not much pleased at this remark of George, but was not to be put down ho easily by him, and so hinted that my neck was not so easily broken. " But lie is rather a dangerous animal," said my uncle, " although you have shown your judgment in choosing him, for a better bit of stuff never entered my stable. He is not thoroughly broken as a hunter yet; still he has a very fair idea of taking a fence j but you had better choose another nag." " Well, uncle," said I, " plouso do let me try him to-morrow," for I rashly determined to risk everything rather than allow George to have a laugh at me. " Oh, if you have made your mind up, go on him, of course ; but don't blame me if you get a spill," said my uncle, " for I don't know how you ride, and you may be a muff for what I know."

" I'll not disgrace you," I replied, " and T thuik I can manage ' Duke' when once I get him out." In the afternoon I sapped down to the stable and saw young Hacket, who'd been a jockey till he got too heavy, and was a most excellent rider. Hacket came from our neighbourhood, and 1 had known him when he was a boy, so I thought I would take his opinion about Duke. » Having told him that I wanted particnJaiiy to ride the horse with the hounds on ; , the J following day, I asked him what he knew about him. '

''Game to the back-bone, sir; and if you-can manage him, there isn't a nag in the stable that he can't show bis tail to." "' "Bufche bolts, does he not?" T asked.

.'■" so, he don't bolt, but he pulls like a steam-engine, and if you don't hold him he'll go, his own pace." ' ''Won't a sharp curb do'?"

bit of use. You may bend it double and he don't care ; but I tell you what "will do." " What is that ?" I asked.

"Why, a powerful ' Pelham '—something of this kind, only a little different in the centre ; with that a child could ride him with a bit of packthread." " Where could I get a bit of that kind?" s: I've got one of my own, sir, and if you like I'll rig it up for you." " I certainly would like to try it, then, and if possible would just take a canter before I go out." " Oh, as to that, you could try it at once ; only it isn't just as bright and clean as it ought to be."

" I should not like anybody to see me," I said, " so how can I manage 1" " Oh, easy enough, for I am going to take two horses, him and another, for fresh shoos presently, and you might just put him at a fence or two on the way—that won't harm him."

"Then," I replied, "I'll bl outside the village in an hour, if that will do, and you can meet me there."

'" Say three-quarters of an hour, sir, and I'll be there. Now, sir, thesy stirrups are about your length, and I think they may be a hole too short, but that is a fault on the right side. Don't worry him with the hand, but just feel him steadily, and take him on the turf—a canter won't harm him."

At the time appointed, I mounted Duke, whilst Harket bestrode the other nag, and w*» walked on towards half a-mile or so of turf that bordered the side of the road.

" Now, let ua see how you can hold him, sir, for he's got, a very big heart. Try if you can keep half-a-length behind me. Keep your hands low, and if you think he's going away with you, just shorten, your reins, put your right hand on the right rein, half-way on towards the bit, and just pull his head slowly round : you could pull up an elephant in that way. It ain't no good lugging away at a runaway horse, for he's stronger than you are. Reins a little shorter, sir : keep him in hand, and now—off!" Hacket shot away at a length in advance, but Duke made a bound as though fired from a cannon, and in an instant was alongside his stable companion. I had ridden many horses previously, and, as the sequel will show, was no mean horseman, but I had never before sat upon such a mass of whalebcne-like muscles as those possessed by Duke. His power was immense, lus stride free and quick, and it was delightful to feel such an animal bej neath one.

" Now keep hini back, sir ; keep him back," said Hacket, "we ain't going to race—we're going to try your hand on him."

I took a good pull at Duke, but could not govern him in the least, and he was going at full speed. •'Right hand down, sir; down with it, or he'll be away with yon," shouted Hacket.

I slipped my right hand down, grasped the broad strong rein firmly, and, with my elbow close to my side, pulled at Duke's mouth. The eager, gallant horse shook bis head in an endeavour to free it, but in vain; and then, as I brought his head steadily round towards the right, he unwillingly shortened his stride, and allowed Hacket to shoot ahead. He did not resign himself, however, without a struggle,

Bab gave one or two vigorous jerks and u bound or two, and dragged and jerked at the bridle. I had, however, reduced his pace to a canter, and had perfect command over him, Hacket hud pulled up, and now allowed mo to come alongside of him. "You've got a pair of good arms, sir, anil a very promising hand. I believe a hand on a horse is born with a man, 'taint to be trained, Now you can manage that nag, and I'll just tell yor now, if you'd a gone on pulling steadily at him, as some gents would a don; 1, he'd a gone on ten miles t'other side o' Goilstone, and you'd a had the cramp in your anus long afore that. Now you see how you can steady him when he tries to rush at his fences, and he can't bolt if you just pull him round with that

right hand o' yourn." A tip of half-a-crown set matters all right, and I returned to the hall, dressed for dinner, and joined the party in the drawing-room. I soon saw that there was some joke about me, and was not long in discovering that it was in reference to my projected mount. I. took Katie in to dinner, and she informed me that George had bet her a pair of gloves that I should be "spilt" at the first fence. " So," said she, " I depend on you to win for me, and I believe you'll do very well." I assured her that it would not be my fault if she did not win, 'and bore in mind that I owed Master George one for his impertinence in making such a bet.

(To be concluded in our next.)