'Whatever you do, _pray_ let them get away! _Pray_ don't spoil your own sport! Pray remember they're his lordship's hounds!--that they cost him five-and-twenty under'd--two thousand five under'd a year! And where, let me ax, with wheat down to nothing, would you get another, if he was to throw up ?' As Jack made this inquiry, he took a hurried glance at the now pouring-out pack; and seeing they were safe away, he wiped the foam from his mouth on his sleeve, dropped into his saddle, and, catching his horse short round by the head, clapped spurs into his sides, and galloped away, exclaiming: 'Now, ye tinkers, we'll all start fair!' Then there was such a scrimmage! such jostling and elbowing among the jealous ones; such ramming and cramming among the eager ones; such pardon-begging among the polite ones; such spurting of ponies, such clambering of cart-horses.

All were bent on going as far as they could--all except Jawleyford, who sat curvetting and prancing in the patronizing sort of way gentlemen do who encourage hounds for the sake of the manly spirit the sport engenders, and the advantage hunting is of in promoting our unrivalled breed of horses.
His lordship having slipped away, horn in hand, under pretence of blowing the hounds out of cover, as soon as he set Jack at the field, had now got a good start, and, horse well in hand, was sailing away in their wake.
'F-o-o-r-r-ard!' screamed Frostyface, coming up alongside of him, holding his horse--a magnificent thoroughbred bay--well by the head, and settling himself into his saddle as he went.
'F-o-r-rard!' screeched his lordship, thrusting his spectacles on to his nose.
'Twang--twang--twang,' went the huntsman's deep-sounding horn.
'T'weet--t'weet--t'weet,' went his lordship's shriller one.
'In for a stinger, my lurd,' observed Jack, returning his horn to the case.
'Hope so,' replied his lordship, pocketing his.
They then flew the first fence together.
'F-o-r-r-ard!' screamed Jack in the air, as he saw the hounds packing well together, and racing with a breast-high scent.
'F-o-r-rard!' screamed his lordship, who was a sort of echo to his huntsman, just as Jack Spraggon was echo to his lordship.
'He's away for Gunnersby Craigs,' observed Jack, pointing that way, for they were a good ten miles off.
'Hope so,' replied his lordship, for whom the distance could never be too great, provided the pace corresponded.
'F-o-o-r-rard!' screamed Jack.
'F-o-r-rard!' screeched his lordship.
So they went flying and 'forrarding' together; none of the field--thanks to Jack Spraggon--being able to overtake them.
'Y-o-o-nder he goes!' at last cried Frosty, taking off his cap as he viewed the fox, some half-mile ahead, stealing away round the side of Newington Hill.
'Tallyho!' screeched his lordship, riding with his flat hat in the air, by way of exciting the striving field to still further exertion.
'He's a good 'un!' exclaimed Frosty, eyeing the fox's going.
'He is that!' replied his lordship, staring at him with all his might.
Then they rode on, and were presently rounding Newington Hill themselves, the hounds packing well together, and carrying a famous head.
His lordship now looked to see what was going on behind.
Scrambleford Hill was far in the rear.

Jawleyford and the boy in blue were altogether lost in the distance.

A quarter of a mile or so this way were a couple of dots of horsemen, one on a white, the other on a dark colour--most likely Jones, the keeper, and Farmer Stubble, on the foaly mare.

Then, a little nearer, was a man in a hedge, trying to coax his horse after him, stopping the way of two boys in white trousers, whose ponies looked like rats.