Mr. Punch in the Hunting Field by J. A. Hammerton and John Leech (most difficult books to read txt) 📕

Irate M.F.H. (who has had half an hour in the big gorse trying to get a faint-hearted fox away, galloping to "holloa" on the far side of covert.) "Confound you and your pony, sir! Get out of my way!"

Little Binks, who has been trying to keep out of people's way all day, thinks he can quite understand the feelings of the hunted fox.

[Pg 162]

Last week our Point to Point steeplechase came off. So did several of the riders: this merely par parenthèse. I offered to mark out the course, and, as I intended to escape the dread ordeal of riding by scratching my horse at the last moment, I thought it would be great fun to choose a very stiff, not to say bloodthirsty, line. Awful grumbling on the part of those unhappy ones who were to ride. Just as the bell rang for saddling, Captain Sproozer, ready dressed for the fray, came up to me with very long face, and said, "Beastly line this, you know, Phunker. I call it much too stiff."

I smiled in pitying and superior manner. "Think so, my dear Sproozer? My horse can't run, worse luck, but I only wish I were going to have the gallop over it."

"So you shall, then!" cried a rasping voice, suddenly, from behind me. Sir Hercules[Pg 165] Blizzard was the speaker, an awful man with an awful temper. "So you shall. My idiot of a jockey broke his collar-bone trying to jump one of the fences on this confounded course of yours to-day, so, as I am without a rider, you shall ride my mare Dinah."

Swallowed lump in my throat as I thanked him for his offer, but thought I had better decline, as I didn't know the mare, and besides that, I——

"Oh! all right, I know what you are going to say: that you're not much good on a horse"—(nothing of the sort! I was not going to say any such thing, confound the man!) "Of course, I know all that, and that you're not much of a rider; but I can't help myself now. It's too late to get a decent horseman, so I shall have to make shift with you."

Deuced condescending of him. I made a feeble effort to escape, and would cheerfully have paid a hundred pounds for the chance of doing so. Phil Poundaway, great friend of mine, came up and said (sympathetically, as I thought at first), "I should think you'd prefer to get off it, wouldn't you, Phunker?"

[Pg 168]

Thought he would volunteer in my place, so was perfectly frank with him. "My dear Phil, I'd give a hundred to get off——"

"Ah! you will, I expect, at the first fence, without paying the money!" he grinned, as he turned away.

Murder was in my heart at that moment. I got on Dinah, and, feeling like death, rode down to the starting-post. Thoughts of a misspent youth, of home and friends and things, came o'er me. I seemed once more to see the little rose-covered porch, the——

"What on earth are you mooning about?" thundered the Blizzardian voice in my ear. "Take hold of her head tighter than that, or you'll be off!"

The next moment the starter yelled "Go!" and away, like a whirlwind, we sped across the first field, towards a huge, thick blackthorn fence, the one I had thought to see such fun with. Fun! I never felt less funny in my life, as we approached it at the rate of two thousand miles an hour! The mare jumped high, but I jumped much higher, and seemed for a brief moment to be soaring through the blue empyrean. Somehow, the mare managed to evade me on the return journey earthwards, and, instead of alighting on the saddle, I found myself "sitting on the floor." A howl—it might have been of sympathy, but it didn't sound quite like that—arose from the crowd, and then I thought that I would go home on foot, instead of returning to explain matters to Sir Hercules. As a matter of fact, I don't much care for associating with old Blizzard, at all events, not just now.

[Pg 163]

AMENITIES OF SPORT

Huntsman (to Whip, sent forward for a view.) "Haven't ye seen him, Tom?"

Whip. "No, sir."

Huntsman. "If he'd been in a pint pot, ye jolly soon would!"

[Pg 164]

HIS LITTLE DODGE

First Hunting Man (having observed the ticket with "K" on it in his friend's hat.) "I didn't know that old gee of yours was a kicker. He looks quiet enough."

Second Hunting Man. "Well, he isn't really. I only wear the "K" to make people give me more room!"

[Pg 166]

TRUE COURAGE

Whip. "Hi, sir! Keep back! The fox may break covert there!"

Foreigner. "Bah! I fear him not—your fox."

[Pg 167]

THE FORCE OF HABIT

Spanner (a great cyclist, whose horse has been startled by man on covert hack.) "Hi! confound you! Why the deuce don't you sound your bell!!"

[Pg 169]

"THE CART WITHOUT THE HORSE"

Scene—Cub-hunting. Time—About one o'clock.

Lady. "Well, Count, what have you lost? Your lunch?"

The Count (who breakfasted some time before six o'clock, a.m..) "No, no! Donner und wetter! I have him, but I have lost my teeth!"

[Pg 170]

HORRIBLE PREDICAMENT

Gent (on mettlesome hireling.) "'Elp! 'Elp! Somebody stop 'im! 'E's going to jump, and I can't!"

[Pg 171]

MOST EMBARRASSING

Lady (hiding behind bush, to Mr. Spoodle, who has captured her horse). "Oh, thank you so much! But I hope to goodness you have found my skirt as well!"

    [Nice position for Mr. Spoodle, who is very bashful, and has seen nothing of the garment.

[Pg 172]

"DO NOT SPEAK TO THE MAN AT THE WHEEL"

'Arry (puffing a "twopenny smoke," to huntsman, making unsuccessful cast.) "Very bad scent."

Huntsman. "Shockin'! Smells like burnin' seaweed!"

[Pg 173]

OBEYING ORDERS

"It's all very well for master to say 'Keep close to Miss Vera, Miles'—but I want to know 'oo's going to take Miles to the 'orsepital?"

[Pg 174]

GALLANTRY REWARDED

Lady (having had a fall at a brook, and come out the wrong side,—to stranger who has caught her horse.) "Oh, I'm so much obliged to you! Now, do you mind just bringing him over?"

[Pg 175]

JUST OFF

"Ride her on the snaffle, Tom! Don't ride her on the curb!"

"Hang your curb and snaffle! I've enough to do to ride her on the saddle!"

[Pg 176]

A Suggestion: No more trouble from wire, damage to fences, etc.

[Pg 177]

THE TRIALS OF AN M.F.H.

M.F.H. (to misguided enthusiast who has been cheering hounds on a bad scent.) "Now then! Am I going to hunt the hounds or are you?"

Enthusiast (sweetly.) "Just as you please, m'lord, just as you please."

[Pg 178]

OFF HIS GUARD

Farmer (just coming up.) "Young gentleman riding your brown horse, my lord, had nasty accident a field or two back. Barbed wire—very ugly cuts!"

My Lord. "Tut—tut—tut! Dear—dear—dear! Not the horse, I hope?"

[Pg 179]

"BON VOYAGE!"

Mossu (shot into a nice soft loam), exultingly. "A—ha—a! I am safe o-vère! Now it is your turn, Meester Timbre Jompre! Come on, sare!"

[Pg 180]

ON THE WAY HOME FROM THE EXMOOR HUNT—NO KILL

Fair Huntress. "What a pity the hounds let that splendid stag get away, Colonel, wasn't it?"

Colonel. "Pity! Ha, if they'd only taken my advice we should have been up with him now, instead of being miles away on the wrong track!"

[Pg 181]

Distinguished Foreigner (to good Samaritan who has caught his horse.) "Merci bien, monsieur! You save me much trouble. Before, I lose my horse—I lose him altogether, and I must put him in the newspaper!"

[Pg 182]

VIVE LA CHASSE!

Foreign Visitor (an enthusiastic "sportsman," viewing fox attempting to break.) "A-h-h-h! Halte-la! Halte! You shall not escape!"

[Pg 183]

RATHER TOO MUCH

Lady (having just cannoned Stranger into brook.) "Oh, I'm so sorry I bumped you! Would you mind going in again for my hat?"

[Pg 184]

THE END OF THE HUNTING SEASON (By Our Own Novice)

Good-bye to the season! E'en gluttons

Have had quite enough of the game,

And if we returned to our muttons,

Our horses are laid up and lame.

We hunted straight on through the winter,

And never were stopped by the frost,

As I know right well from each splinter

Of bone that my poor limbs have lost.

Good-bye to the season! The "croppers"

I got where the fences were tall,

And Oh the immaculate "toppers"

That always were crushed by my fall.

Don't think though that I'm so stout-hearted

As e'er to jump hedges or dikes,

It's simply that after we've started,

My "gee" gallivants as it likes.

In vain I put on natty breeches,

And tops like Meltonian swell,

It ends in the blessed old ditches,

I know like the Clubs in Pall Mall.[Pg 188]

And when from a "gee" that's unruly

I fall with a terrible jar,

I know that old Jorrocks spoke truly,

And hunting's "the image of war."

And never for me "Fair Diana"

Shall smile as we know that she can,

With looks that are sweeter than manna,

On many a fortunate man.

It adds to the pangs that I suffer,

When thrown at a fence in her track,

To hear her "Ridiculous duffer!"

When jumping slap over my back.

I've fractured my ulnar, I'm aching

Where over my ribs my horse rolled;

Egad! the "Old Berkeley" is making

One man feel uncommonly old.

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