ged my residence to the General
Hospital. The first time I took Terence, who was a beautiful jumper, to
a paperchase, two horses fell in front of him at the first jump. A horse
ridden by that good sportswoman, Mrs. Saunders, refused a hurdle in
front of us, and Terence followed suit. After I had got him sailing away
again, a horse ridden by Mr. Garth, a well known horseman, fell over a
big blind ditch just in front of Terence, who luckily cleared the lot.
Captain Turner was walking about minus horse and hat, and that famous
G.R., Captain "Ding" Macdougal, had a nasty purl. In fact, that chase
was a chapter of accidents. Mr. "Tougal," who had helped to lay the
paper, told me afterwards that two of the unbreakable mud walls were
four feet three inches high, which is a very formidable height,
considering that the horses had to jump out of deep mud. That chase took
place on 2nd January, 1890, and I think it was a far higher test of
'cross country cleverness, than hunters in the shires have to go
through.

Mr. Clark, who lived and paperchased for several years in Calcutta, and
who was a large horse dealer in Hilmorton, near Rugby, tells me that he
frequently measured the mud walls which were built for these chases, and
often found them full five feet high. The large majority of horses
ridden in these events are well bred Australians, which, taking them all
round, are the best jumpers I have ever seen. Some "country-breds" are
fine fencers, but Arabs, delightful as they are for hacking, rarely
distinguish themselves across country.

The Calcutta natives were always on the look-out for squalls, like the
Irish "wreckers" of olden days. It was no uncommon sight to see a black
man, with nothing on but a _kummerbund_, running away to his lair, with
a stirrup leather, hat, or even a pair of spurs belonging to some
dethroned sportsman. The horse ridden by Mrs. Saunders in the paperchase
I have alluded to, was a powerful "Waler" which, according to his
importer, Mr. Macklin, had won nearly all the jumping prizes in
Australia! He had evidently been spoiled at the competition business,
like many other horses, for despite the careful handling of his
mistress, he was useless as a paperchaser. We had, while living at
Melton Mowbray, a black Irish horse which also had won prizes at show
jumping, but he was a most determined refuser in the open, and had many
other tricks of temper, so we soon got rid of him.

On off days, during the cold