DOI Heft:
February 16, 1889
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17687#0083
February 16, 1889.]
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
73
The Lady Godiva. “ High Dresses to be worn at the Drawing-
Room—indeed !—if Ladies are ill, infirm, or advancing in age !
Ha, ha ! Not if I know it!"
A GLORIOUS SPIN ALTER A JULY RABBIT.
A Hunting Story, by the Author of “A Shoot with a Fax-hound,"
“A Leal Good Snipe," “ The Herne Bay Harriers," “A Knacker’s
Mount," doc., <fcc.
It would have been impossible to have picked out a more wretched
day for the opening meet of the Season than was Tuesday, the first
of July, 188—.
“You must not keep him waiting, Sir,” said Captain Daskover’s
servant, as he helped his master on with a thick Ulster, which com-
pletely covered his red coat, his snowy
breeches, his top-boots, and all the brave
insignia of the chase.
“I hope he is not too fresh,” muttered
the Captain, stifling an oath. “As it is
raining, don’t you think Sammy had better
return to his loose-box until it clears up ? ”
“Bless you, no, Sir—in this county they
often hunt in the wet.”
Thus reassured, the Captain approached
his steed (who stood patiently while he
successfully ascended the saddle, with the
material _ assistance of the stirrup), and,
seizing his umbrella, slowly sauntered away.
“ A pretty pair! ” exclaimed the Groom, critically watching the
departing steed and his rider before returning to the dining-room to
remove the remnants of his master’s lunch—“ a pretty pair! ”
It was a bad day. A dense fog lay over all the land, enshrouding
both hills and valleys, shops and public-houses, turnpike-gates and
boot manufactories, in its weird and ghostly embrace. It rested like
a soft grey counterpane upon the fields, toning down to a sombre
tint the rich brown of the upheaved earth. As for the lamp-posts
and the red signals from the chemists’ windows, they were blurred,
j j *~ -U. _• „i.-u —^ Everything was
down in buckets-
| and seemed to be impregnated with moisture. Everything was
i dark, everything was dull, and the rain poured
full.
After five minutes1
careful riding (the meet was at some little
distance from the place of departure), the Captain joined the field,
which had already assembled.
“ Nuisance this rain,” growled the Master, as soon as the Captain
had reported himself. ‘ ‘ On my word, I hardly know what to do.
The hounds are sure to catch cold if I don’t take ’em home. What
do you say, Dashover f ”
“Well,” replied the Captain, pulling at his reins with both hands at
once ; ‘ ‘ now that I have got my bit of blood out, I think we had better
have a spin. Folks don’t like to be disappointed on such occasions.”
The Master, hearing this, gave orders for the day’s proceedings to
commence at once, and the hounds were trotted off at a brisk pace to
draw a covert close by. But the rain and fog continued, and many
of the field went home. Milestones looked dark and formidable,
their dimensions increased instead of diminished by the imperfect
light. The omnibus horses sniffed the damp air through their open
nostrils, and discharged it with disgust. They looked round sus-
piciously at the grey and unrecognisable conveyances beside them,
were nervous and timid, and distrusted the commonest object. A
wheelbarrow (containing penny ices), a donkey, a sheep-dog, filler!
them with apprehension; and all this time, borne on the leaden-
coloured atmosphere, rang out the eager, murderous notes of collies
and poodles, celebrated for their slaying qualities. Suddenly there
was a cry of “Gone forrard, aw-a-ay!” which proclaimed that
Master Bunny had left the snug underwood of the covert. There
was evidently a hot scent in the open, for the hounds dashed out
after him close to his tail, and, taking a bullfinch, disappeared
in the ditch beyond. They threw their tongues merrily, and
added their boisterous, chirruping music to the accompaniment of a
distant, but appreciative brass band, of sporting proclivities,
“ Gone forrard aw-a-ay ! ” Indeed, “ Aw-a-ay ! ”
Off they went! Friendly gates could not be taken advantage of,
so the field hurried along the high road as if they had to catch a
train, which was seldom late! The pack had vanished from view,
having stopped in the kitchen-garden attached to a country public-
house, and the only way to get up td them 'was to negotiate every
possible and impossible fence on foot. Providence must provide for
the rest!
Crash, crash, went the timbers of a stiff double rail as a waggon of
hay moved aside to let a hansom pass ! Suddenly they heard a rail-
way whistle, and the Master called off ’the hounds. He appealed to
them by their names, and, obedient to his cry, they came whining
towards him, and began fawning about his boots.
“Darn this rain!” he exclaimed, resentfully, as he distributed
sugar amongst his canine favourites. “ It ain’t fit to hunt in.”
This had been for a long time the opinion of Captain Dashovee,
who had turned back, ana was on his way home. He was progress-
ing slowly as, beneath him, was one of the most perfect and resolute
walkers that ever looked through a bridle, when he saw Master
Bunny seated in the very centre of the road, devouring a piece of
cabbage. In a moment his horn was to his lips, and he blew a
strange, weird note that he had never heard before—perchance he
would, never hear again! “ Yoicks ! Hi away! Hout and aboot,
Mon! Hoick, [my heauty ! Hoick, hoick at him ! Hi forrard, hi
forrard tantivy! ” and the Captain was fairly excited. Sammy, the
horse, entered into the spirit of the thing, and took up the running
at a gentle trot. Disturbed at his meal, the wily rabbit jumped away
carrying his green-stuff with him. He ran on in this manner for
some yards, and then stopped and began a fresh nibble, but was off
again by the time the Captain had reached his new position. This
was repeated over and over again. Cap-
tain Dashover leant forward in the saddle,
and clasping his good horse’s neck within
his arms, spoke an encouraging word to
him. Whatever the man’s faults were, he
was brave and knew no fear!
But Bunny was not to be caught. He J -
leapt and leapt until he approached the
sea! It was then the Captain stopped,
for he liked not the look of the sands. He
was on the eve of returning home when
Sammy suddenly pulled up, pricked up
his ears, and made a decided point at a bathing-machine. Alack,
alack, for poor Bunny! After a desperate encounter, the Captain
emerged from the submarine conveyance carrying with him the life-
less form of the quarry! He almost sighed as, in duty bound, he
sounded his horn once more, and shouted out yet again, ‘ ‘ Hi forrard!
Hi forrard, tantivy ! ”
******
“Pleasant run, Sir?” asked the man, touching his hat as the
Captain dismounted.
“Excellent,” returned Dashover, paying the customary half-
crown, and pointing to his watch to prove that he had not encroached
upon the second hour at the lower rate of two shillings, he left the
livery stables. Half an hour later he was hurriedly discussing a
boiling cup of tea and a well-toasted muffin in his thrice-welcome
snuggery at home !
von. xcvi.
H
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
73
The Lady Godiva. “ High Dresses to be worn at the Drawing-
Room—indeed !—if Ladies are ill, infirm, or advancing in age !
Ha, ha ! Not if I know it!"
A GLORIOUS SPIN ALTER A JULY RABBIT.
A Hunting Story, by the Author of “A Shoot with a Fax-hound,"
“A Leal Good Snipe," “ The Herne Bay Harriers," “A Knacker’s
Mount," doc., <fcc.
It would have been impossible to have picked out a more wretched
day for the opening meet of the Season than was Tuesday, the first
of July, 188—.
“You must not keep him waiting, Sir,” said Captain Daskover’s
servant, as he helped his master on with a thick Ulster, which com-
pletely covered his red coat, his snowy
breeches, his top-boots, and all the brave
insignia of the chase.
“I hope he is not too fresh,” muttered
the Captain, stifling an oath. “As it is
raining, don’t you think Sammy had better
return to his loose-box until it clears up ? ”
“Bless you, no, Sir—in this county they
often hunt in the wet.”
Thus reassured, the Captain approached
his steed (who stood patiently while he
successfully ascended the saddle, with the
material _ assistance of the stirrup), and,
seizing his umbrella, slowly sauntered away.
“ A pretty pair! ” exclaimed the Groom, critically watching the
departing steed and his rider before returning to the dining-room to
remove the remnants of his master’s lunch—“ a pretty pair! ”
It was a bad day. A dense fog lay over all the land, enshrouding
both hills and valleys, shops and public-houses, turnpike-gates and
boot manufactories, in its weird and ghostly embrace. It rested like
a soft grey counterpane upon the fields, toning down to a sombre
tint the rich brown of the upheaved earth. As for the lamp-posts
and the red signals from the chemists’ windows, they were blurred,
j j *~ -U. _• „i.-u —^ Everything was
down in buckets-
| and seemed to be impregnated with moisture. Everything was
i dark, everything was dull, and the rain poured
full.
After five minutes1
careful riding (the meet was at some little
distance from the place of departure), the Captain joined the field,
which had already assembled.
“ Nuisance this rain,” growled the Master, as soon as the Captain
had reported himself. ‘ ‘ On my word, I hardly know what to do.
The hounds are sure to catch cold if I don’t take ’em home. What
do you say, Dashover f ”
“Well,” replied the Captain, pulling at his reins with both hands at
once ; ‘ ‘ now that I have got my bit of blood out, I think we had better
have a spin. Folks don’t like to be disappointed on such occasions.”
The Master, hearing this, gave orders for the day’s proceedings to
commence at once, and the hounds were trotted off at a brisk pace to
draw a covert close by. But the rain and fog continued, and many
of the field went home. Milestones looked dark and formidable,
their dimensions increased instead of diminished by the imperfect
light. The omnibus horses sniffed the damp air through their open
nostrils, and discharged it with disgust. They looked round sus-
piciously at the grey and unrecognisable conveyances beside them,
were nervous and timid, and distrusted the commonest object. A
wheelbarrow (containing penny ices), a donkey, a sheep-dog, filler!
them with apprehension; and all this time, borne on the leaden-
coloured atmosphere, rang out the eager, murderous notes of collies
and poodles, celebrated for their slaying qualities. Suddenly there
was a cry of “Gone forrard, aw-a-ay!” which proclaimed that
Master Bunny had left the snug underwood of the covert. There
was evidently a hot scent in the open, for the hounds dashed out
after him close to his tail, and, taking a bullfinch, disappeared
in the ditch beyond. They threw their tongues merrily, and
added their boisterous, chirruping music to the accompaniment of a
distant, but appreciative brass band, of sporting proclivities,
“ Gone forrard aw-a-ay ! ” Indeed, “ Aw-a-ay ! ”
Off they went! Friendly gates could not be taken advantage of,
so the field hurried along the high road as if they had to catch a
train, which was seldom late! The pack had vanished from view,
having stopped in the kitchen-garden attached to a country public-
house, and the only way to get up td them 'was to negotiate every
possible and impossible fence on foot. Providence must provide for
the rest!
Crash, crash, went the timbers of a stiff double rail as a waggon of
hay moved aside to let a hansom pass ! Suddenly they heard a rail-
way whistle, and the Master called off ’the hounds. He appealed to
them by their names, and, obedient to his cry, they came whining
towards him, and began fawning about his boots.
“Darn this rain!” he exclaimed, resentfully, as he distributed
sugar amongst his canine favourites. “ It ain’t fit to hunt in.”
This had been for a long time the opinion of Captain Dashovee,
who had turned back, ana was on his way home. He was progress-
ing slowly as, beneath him, was one of the most perfect and resolute
walkers that ever looked through a bridle, when he saw Master
Bunny seated in the very centre of the road, devouring a piece of
cabbage. In a moment his horn was to his lips, and he blew a
strange, weird note that he had never heard before—perchance he
would, never hear again! “ Yoicks ! Hi away! Hout and aboot,
Mon! Hoick, [my heauty ! Hoick, hoick at him ! Hi forrard, hi
forrard tantivy! ” and the Captain was fairly excited. Sammy, the
horse, entered into the spirit of the thing, and took up the running
at a gentle trot. Disturbed at his meal, the wily rabbit jumped away
carrying his green-stuff with him. He ran on in this manner for
some yards, and then stopped and began a fresh nibble, but was off
again by the time the Captain had reached his new position. This
was repeated over and over again. Cap-
tain Dashover leant forward in the saddle,
and clasping his good horse’s neck within
his arms, spoke an encouraging word to
him. Whatever the man’s faults were, he
was brave and knew no fear!
But Bunny was not to be caught. He J -
leapt and leapt until he approached the
sea! It was then the Captain stopped,
for he liked not the look of the sands. He
was on the eve of returning home when
Sammy suddenly pulled up, pricked up
his ears, and made a decided point at a bathing-machine. Alack,
alack, for poor Bunny! After a desperate encounter, the Captain
emerged from the submarine conveyance carrying with him the life-
less form of the quarry! He almost sighed as, in duty bound, he
sounded his horn once more, and shouted out yet again, ‘ ‘ Hi forrard!
Hi forrard, tantivy ! ”
******
“Pleasant run, Sir?” asked the man, touching his hat as the
Captain dismounted.
“Excellent,” returned Dashover, paying the customary half-
crown, and pointing to his watch to prove that he had not encroached
upon the second hour at the lower rate of two shillings, he left the
livery stables. Half an hour later he was hurriedly discussing a
boiling cup of tea and a well-toasted muffin in his thrice-welcome
snuggery at home !
von. xcvi.
H