r.
Jorrocks; haw, haw, haw! No fox indeed!" said he.--"Forrard, hounds,
forrard!" And away he went--caught the old whipper-in, dismounted him in
a twinkling, and was on a fresh horse with his hounds in full cry. The
line of flight was still along the hill-tops, and all eagerly pressed
on, making a goodly rattle over the beds of flints. A check ensued. "The
guard on yonder nasty Brighton coach has frightened him with his horn,"
said Tom; "now we must make a cast up to yonder garden, and see if he's
taken shelter among the geraniums in the green-house. As little damage
as possible, gentlemen, if you please, in riding through the nursery
grounds. Now, hold hard, sir--pray do--there's no occasion for you to
break the kale pots; he can't be under them. Ah, yonder he goes, the
tailless beggar; did you see him as he stole past the corner out of the
early-cabbage bed? Now bring on the hounds, and let us press him towards
London."

"See the conquering hero comes", sounded through the avenue of elms as
Tom dashed forward with the merry, merry pack. "I shall stay on the
hills", said one, "and be ready for him as he comes back; I took a good
deal of the shine out of my horse in coming up this time". "I think
I will do the same", said two or three more. "Let's be doing", said
Jorrocks, ramming his spurs into his nag to seduce him into a gallop,
who after sending his heels in the air a few times in token of
his disapprobation of such treatment, at last put himself into a
round-rolling sort of canter, which Jorrocks kept up by dint of spurring
and dropping his great bastinaderer of a whip every now and then across
his shoulders. Away they go pounding together!

The line lies over flint fallows occasionally diversified with a
turnip-field or market-garden, and every now and then a "willa" appears,
from which emerge footmen in jackets, and in yellow, red and green plush
breeches, with no end of admiring housemaids, governesses, and nurses
with children in their arms.

Great was the emulation when any of these were approached, and the
rasping sportsmen rushed eagerly to the "fore." At last they approach
"Miss Birchwell's finishing and polishing seminary for young ladies,"
whose great flaring blue-and-gold sign, reflecting the noonday rays of
the sun, had frightened the fox and caused him to alter his line and
take away to the west. A momentary check ensued, but all the amateur
huntsmen being blown, Tom, who is well up with his hounds,