to hunt on Friday, we might go on to Craffroe after seeing the fun."

The topic of Barnet was here shelved in favour of automobiles. Mrs.
Alexander's brother was also a person of enthusiasms.

But what were these enthusiasms compared to the deep-seated ecstasy of
Freddy Alexander as in his new pink coat he rode down the main street
of Enniscar, Patsey in equal splendour bringing up the rear, unspeakably
conscious of the jibes of his relatives and friends. There was a select
field, consisting of Mr. Taylour, four farmers, some young ladies on
bicycles, and about two dozen young men and boys on foot, who, in order
to be prepared for all contingencies, had provided themselves with five
dogs, two horns, and a ferret. It is, after all, impossible to please
everybody, and from the cyclists' and foot people's point of view the
weather left nothing to be desired. The sun shone like a glistering
shield in the light blue November sky, the roads were like iron, the
wind, what there was of it, like steel. There was a line of white on the
northerly side of the fences, that yielded grudgingly and inch by inch
before the march of the pale sunshine: the new pack could hardly have
had a more unfavourable day for their _début_.

The new Master was, however, wholly undaunted by such crumples in the
rose-leaf. He was riding Mayboy, a big trustworthy horse, whose love of
jumping had survived a month of incessant and arbitrary schooling, and
he left the road as soon as was decently possible, and made a line
across country for the covert that involved as much jumping as could
reasonably be hoped for in half a mile. At the second fence Patsey
Crimmeen's black mare put her nose in the air and swung round; Patsey's
hands seemed to be at their worst this morning, and what their worst
felt like the black mare alone knew. Mr. Taylour, as Deputy Whip,