[Pg 47]
Keen sportsmen and true friends to the hunt are the Farmers of Bullshire, so there is little fear of opposition5 on their part. Indeed, on one occasion they combined to make it very "warm" for a stranger who came among them, and who did not fall in with their views concerning the necessary amount of support to be given to the hounds. The erring7 member was a man who, having made some money in the chandler line in London, took it into his head that he was cut out for a Farmer, and accordingly took a farm in the centre of the hunt. From the moment he set his foot in the place he gave offence, for the first thing he did was to wire the whole of his fences, and then gave notice that anyone riding across his land would be summoned for trespass and "prosecuted8 according to law." "He was not a-going to 'ave them beastly dorgs and 'osses a-running over his land, not if he knowed it." A climax9, however, was reached when the surly brute10 assaulted one of the members of the hunt with a pitchfork, and swore he would lay down[Pg 48] poison for the hounds. A meeting was there and then called to discuss the question, and it was unanimously decided11 to give the individual "what for."
Accordingly, some of the younger Farmers assembled one evening, and by the following morning there was not a trace of wire to be seen nor a gate-post standing12 in the holding of the ex-chandler. Strange to say, the local police, into whose hands the matter was immediately put, failed to discover the offenders13, and the country-side was straightway ringing with the candleman's discomfiture14. The next time he went to market not a beast could he sell, and it was the same with everything. He found a strong league against him, none would buy from him and none would sell to him; so at the end of a year he retired15 in disgust, much to the delight of the conspirators16.
No two better representatives of the Bullshire Farmers, old and young, could be found than Simms and his son. The father—hard-working, hard-riding, hard-headed, with fifty[Pg 49] years of practical knowledge on his shoulders—is a firm believer in Church and State and the rotation17 of crops. With a horror of anything like steam, and a decided prejudice against the School Board, he stands out a true type of the warm-hearted old-fashioned yeoman.
The son, equally hard-working in his way, and still harder perhaps in his riding, is full of what his sire is pleased to call "danged rattletrap notions," born of the Agricultural College. Steam ploughs or "cultivators" he pins his faith on. Church and State he has not much time, he says, to think about. The rotation of crops must be regulated by manuring, and he drives the old man nearly wild by learned treatises18 on the subject of superphosphates, nitrates, and guano.
Each in his own way is an excellent Farmer—the one of the old school, practical and working in a groove19, the other of the new, mechanical and enterprising. In the hunting-field, however, they meet on common ground, and as there are but few fixtures20 at which both[Pg 50] father and son do not turn up, it may be taken for granted that in this respect their opinions coincide.
Mark the difference in the respective "get-up" of the two as they jog along together to Highfield cross-roads. Old Simms' long-coat is, from constant exposure, more of a brown than the black it originally was; and his hat has evidently had a few words with the hat-brush (the latter having revenged itself by running "heel"), for the silk is all the wrong way, and there is a large dent21 in the top. He still adheres to a bird's-eye fogle, wound three times round a high white collar, the corners of which only are visible, and contrast strongly with his jovial22 red face. High jack-boots, and stout23 cords that have seen the end of many a hard day, complete his attire24, while his horse, a real "good 'un," is, like himself, all in the rough. His son, on the contrary, is as neat as a new pin, in a hunting-cap, double-breasted Melton coat, white breeches and tops; and the horse is on a par6 with his rider.
[Pg 51]
"Ah Simms, I knew you would turn up," say a cluster of sportsmen as the pair arrive at the meet.
"Good morning, gentlemen; bound to be at Highfield, if possible. James here" (pointing to his son) "would never forgive me if I did not come and see his gorse drawn25, though I do tell him as how, with all the stinking26 stuff be puts on the land, there ain't a ghost of a chance of any scent," is the reply.
"Never you fear, father," retorts James; "you wait till they find, and if they don't run as well over my land as any other I'll eat my hat."
"All right, my boy," laughs the old man. "I hope you and your young 'un may come across one of those infernal steam ploughs of yours, like I did this morning, all of a sudden. The mare27 nearly put me down, old stager as she is, and what that cocktail28 of yours'll do, Lord knows."
This raises a general laugh against James, in the middle of which the Master rides up.[Pg 52] "Well, James, have you got one for us to-day?" he asks. "Tom tells me that we are sure of a fox in the osiers at the bottom, but if you know of one in the gorse we'll go there first."
"Try the gorse first, Sir John, if you please. I think I can promise one there," replies James Simms, in momentary29 dread30 that Tom and the osiers might win the day.
And as Sir John, nodding to the Huntsman, says: "High field Gorse, Tom," James's face beams with pleasure, and, together with his father, he trots31 off to superintend the arrangements. "A chip of the old block" is the general verdict, as James, sending his "young 'un" at a low post and rails, which he hits hard all round, cuts off a corner, and canters on to the bottom end, where he remains32 as mute as a sphinx, merely telegraphing to Tom and his father that he was there. Just as the hounds are thrown in, a boy runs up to him and, with a grin, says: "Mayster, ay's theer; I'n sayd 'un. Ay's down at bottom end by t' ould stump33."
"All right, Jim, my lad; you keep quiet.[Pg 53] If he's there you shall have a bob," replies James, burning with impatience34 as he hears no sound save Tom's "Eleu, in, eleu 'ave at 'm. Eugh, boys."
"Blank, by the Lord Harry35!" he ejaculates, as two or three hounds appear outside; and, turning to the boy, he asks: "My lad, are you sure you saw a fox?"
"I'n sayd 'un; ay's theer," is the reply. "Ay mun bay up stump."
"Here," cries James, "take my whip, and if you can get him out your bob will be two-and-six."
The boy does not wait a moment, but, heedless of furze, dashes on to where the old ivy-covered stump stands, and is soon swarming36 up to the top. A crack of the whip, a scuffle, a shout from the lad of "Look out, mayster," and a fine old dog jumps out and makes off right under James's nose.
"Good lad," he says, as the boy returns with his whip; "here, catch." And while James utters a view holloa that would wake[Pg 54] the dead, the lad, having spat37 upon it for luck, transfers half-a-crown to his pocket.
"All right, Tom; down the field and over the fence to the right. Come on, dad;" and Tom, getting his hounds on the line in a twinkling, the trio are hard at it.
"Pull that young 'un together," says old Simms as they neared the fence; "it's a big 'un." His old mare slips over as if it was child's play. Not so the "young 'un." Going like an express train, he never rises an inch, and James finds himself and the nag38 somewhat mixed up on the other side.
"That's a buster. No damage, eh?" says Tom.
"Not a bit; for'ard on," replies James, swinging himself into his saddle, and giving his astonished animal a gentle reminder39. "It'll teach him to rise next time. There goes the governor," as his father landed in a blind ditch at the next obstacle, but was up and going again in a moment.
At this crisis they are joined by the[Pg 55] Master and a chosen few. "All, this is something like a fox, worthy40 of the family," laughs Sir John Lappington as he gallops alongside. "Did you breed him on purpose?"
"No, Sir John; I can't quite say that. He's an artful old dodger41 though, and mother says she's had the feeding of him. He was up in the stump, and a lad fetched him out with my whip," replies Simms the younger as they stride over the grass.
"By gad42, fox is bound for your place," says Tom to the father. And Tom is right. Straight as a die he heads for old Simms' farm, and now that they are on his land the son does not forget to chaff43 his father most unmercifully about the roughness of the fences. A few fields farther on a labourer hollos him, and in the meadow before the house the hounds view, and they run into him almost in the garden.
"Who-whoop," yells the old man, as pleased as Punch. "Now then, missus," as Mrs. Simms comes out to see the end of the[Pg 56] destroyer of her chickens, "ale and beer and anything you have. What is it, gentlemen? Give it a name," as the field one by one jump off their smoking horses. "We must drink the health of this one; it's, as Sir John says, a family fox. Oh, bother the turkeys, missus," as Mrs. S. mutters something about feeding the fox; "you can think of nothing but turkeys. We's all a-dry here;" and he bustles44 off to fetch out some more of the rare old home-brewed, reappearing in a few minutes with an enormous jug45. "Now, Sir John, one more glass. No? Anybody else say anything? Here, Tom, I must have that brush. Best thing we've had this season. Oh, you don't want any more beer, James; you ought to feed on phosphates," as his son holds out a horn to be replenished46. "There, bring my horse, lad," to a labourer; and the old man, his face beaming with pleasure, is ready for the fray47 again.
That evening there is what James calls a "symposium48" at the farm, and the run is run over again. "Twenty-five minutes without a[Pg 57] check, and thank you kindly49 for the missus, self, and son. I only hope we shall be able to find as good a one next time we draw the gorse, and if every one of us has a family fox on his place, the Bullshire need have no fear about sport," is what old Simms says in acknowledging the toast of himself and family, which is drunk with three times three.
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1
imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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2
backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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3
gallops
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| （马等）奔驰，骑马奔驰( gallop的名词复数 ) | |
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4
trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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5
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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6
par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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7
erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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8
prosecuted
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| a.被起诉的 | |
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9
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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10
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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11
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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12
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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13
offenders
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| n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 )；犯规者；罪犯；妨害…的人（或事物） | |
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14
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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15
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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16
conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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17
rotation
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| n.旋转；循环，轮流 | |
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18
treatises
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| n.专题著作，专题论文，专著( treatise的名词复数 ) | |
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19
groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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20
fixtures
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| （房屋等的）固定装置( fixture的名词复数 )； 如（浴盆、抽水马桶）； 固定在某位置的人或物； （定期定点举行的）体育活动 | |
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21
dent
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| n.凹痕，凹坑；初步进展 | |
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22
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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24
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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25
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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26
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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27
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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28
cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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29
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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30
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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31
trots
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| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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32
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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33
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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34
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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35
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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36
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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37
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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38
nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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39
reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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40
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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41
dodger
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| n.躲避者；躲闪者；广告单 | |
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42
gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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43
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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44
bustles
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| 热闹( bustle的名词复数 )； （女裙后部的）衬垫； 撑架 | |
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45
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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46
replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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47
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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48
symposium
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| n.讨论会，专题报告会；专题论文集 | |
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49
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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