have such a
hard run for the last day."

"Which run is it?" said Tadpole.

"Oh, the Barby run, I hear," answered the other; "nine miles at least,
and hard ground; no chance of getting in at the finish, unless you're a
first-rate scud."

"Well, I'm going to have a try," said Tadpole; "it's the last run of the
half, and if a fellow gets in at the end, big-side stands ale and bread
and cheese, and a bowl of punch; and the Cock's such a famous place for
ale."

"I should like to try too," said Tom.

"Well then, leave your waistcoat behind, and listen at the door, after
calling-over, and you'll hear where the meet is."

After calling-over, sure enough, there were two boys at the door,
calling out, "Big-side Hare-and-hounds meet at White Hall;" and Tom,
having girded himself with leather strap, and left all superfluous
clothing behind, set off for White Hall, an old gable-ended house some
quarter of a mile from town, with East, whom he had persuaded to join,
notwithstanding his prophecy that they could never get in, as it was the
hardest run of the year.

At the meet they found some forty or fifty boys, and Tom felt sure, from
having seen many of them run at football, that he and East were more
likely to get in than they.

After a few minutes' waiting, two well-known runners, chosen for the
hares, buckled on the four bags filled with scent, compared their
watches with those of young Brooke and Thorne, and started off at a long
slinging trot across the fields in the direction of Barby.

Then the hounds clustered round Thorne, who explained shortly, "They're
to have six minutes' law. We run into the Cock, and every one who comes
in within a quarter of an hour of the hares'll be counted, if he has
been round Barby church." Then came a minute's pause or so, and then the
watches are pocketed, and the pack is led through the gateway into the
field which the hares had first crossed. Here they break into a trot,
scattering over the field to find the first traces of the scent which
the hares throw out as they go along. The old hounds make straight for
the likely points, and in a minute a cry of "forward" comes from one of
them, and the whole pack quickening their pace make for the spot, while
the boy who hit the scent first and the two or three nearest to him are
over the first fence, and making play along the hedgerow in the long
grass-field beyond. The rest of the pack rush at the gap already made,
and scramble through, j