But I beg my reader's pardon for troubling
him with all this about my horse, for, assuredly, neither he nor I will
perform any deed of prowess in his presence. But I have the weakness of
garrulity in regard to a predilection from the indulgence of which
circumstances have debarred me.
At nine o'clock my friend and I started upon hacks for the meet. Now, I am
not going to describe the "harrow and weal away!" with which the soul of
poor Reynard is hunted out of the world--if, indeed, such a clever wretch
can have a soul. I daresay--I hope, at least, that the argument of the
fox-hunter is analogically just, who, being expostulated with on the
cruelty of fox-hunting, replied--"Well, you know, the hounds like it; and
the horses like it; and there's no doubt the men like it--and who knows
whether the fox doesn't like it too?" But I would not have introduced the
subject except for the sake of what my reader will find in the course of a
page or two, and which assuredly is not fox-hunting.
We soon found. But just before, a sudden heavy noise, coming apparently
from a considerable distance, made one or two of the company say, with
passing curiosity: "What is that?" It was instantly forgotten, however, as
soon as the fox broke cover.
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