The idea owed its inception to my attempt at explaining the
pink-coated horsemen depicted on an old Christmas card. I did my best,
right up to and including the "worry," in which Isabel joined with
enthusiasm. Then she went to bed.
But not to sleep. As I passed by the open door I heard a small
excited voice expounding to a lymphatic dolly the whole mystery of
fox-hunting:--
"And there was a wood, and there was a smell. And all the peoploos
on '_normous_ huge high horses. And _nen_ all the hound-foxes runned
after the smell and eated it all up."
A fortnight later, taking a short cut through the Squire's coverts, I
sat down to enjoy the glory of woodland springtime. "There was a wood
and there was a smell." There certainly was; in fact I was all but
sitting upon an earth.
All this is credible enough. Now I hope you will believe the rest of
the story.
A dirty sheet of paper lay near Reynard's front doorstep. Idly
curious, I picked it up. Strange paper, a form of print that I had
never seen before; marked too with dirty pads.
It was a newspaper of sorts.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32