Handley Cross; or, MrJorrock's hunt . otpursued by his old friends the Dotfield harriers as at first he thought,and with whom he had had many a game at romps, he presently sunkthe hill and made for the stiffly-fenced vale below. Blow me tight! exclaimed Jorrocks, shortening his hold ofArterxerxes, and putting his head straight as he used to do down theSurrey hills, Blow me tight 1 but I wish he maynt be gettin meinto grief. This looks to me werry like the Ingerleigh Wale, and ifit is, its a bit of as nasty ridin grund as ever mortal man got into—yawnin ditches with himpracticable fences, posts
Handley Cross; or, MrJorrock's hunt . otpursued by his old friends the Dotfield harriers as at first he thought,and with whom he had had many a game at romps, he presently sunkthe hill and made for the stiffly-fenced vale below. Blow me tight! exclaimed Jorrocks, shortening his hold ofArterxerxes, and putting his head straight as he used to do down theSurrey hills, Blow me tight 1 but I wish he maynt be gettin meinto grief. This looks to me werry like the Ingerleigh Wale, and ifit is, its a bit of as nasty ridin grund as ever mortal man got into—yawnin ditches with himpracticable fences, posts with rails of themost formidable order, and that nasty long Tommy bruk, twistin OB, MB. JOBBOCKSS HUNT. 283 and twinin about in all directions like a childs , thank goodness, eres a gap and a gate beyond, continuedhe, as his quick eye caught a gap at the corner of the stubble field hewas now approaching, which getting through, he rose in his stirrupsand cheered on the hounds in tbe line of the other HOISTING HIMSELF ON LIKE A CRATE OF EARTHENWARE. For-r-a-r-d! For-r-a-r-d! shrieked he, pointing the now racinghounds out to Charley, who was a little behind ; for-rard!forward! continued Jorrocks, rib-roasting Arterxerxes. The gatewas locked, but Jackey—we beg his pardon—Mr. Jorrocks—wasquickly off, and setting his great back against it, lifted it off thehinges. Go on ! never mind me! cried he to Charley, who had 284 HANDLEY CROSS; pulled up as Jorrocks was dancing about with one foot in the stirrup,trying to remount.— Go on! never mind me ! repeated he, withdesperate energy, as he made another assault at the saddle. Geton, Ben, you most useless appendage! continued he, now lyingacross the saddle, like a millers sack. A few flounders land him inthe desired haven, and he trots on, playing at catch-stirrup with hisright foot as he goes. Forrard on! forrard on! still screamed he, cracking hisponderous whip, though the hounds were running awa
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectfoxhunt, bookyear1892
