Fossick was on foot, drawing his girths; Fyle was striking a light to smoke a cigar on his hack; Blossomnose and Capon's grooms were fistling and wisping their horses; Dribble, as usual, was all behind; and altogether there was such a scene of hurry and confusion as never was seen.
'As they came to the brook they got somewhat into line, and one saw who was there.

Five or six of us charged it together, and two went under.

One was Springwheat on his bay, who was somewhat pumped out; the other was said to be Hook.

Old Daddy Longlegs skimmed it like a swallow, and, getting his hind-legs well under him, shot over the pastures beyond, as if he was going upon turf.

The hounds all this time had been running, or rather racing, nearly mute.