United States or Papua New Guinea ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Walker and Miss Walker, and before the Sunday evening it was told how the patient had signified his intention of hunting again on the first possible opportunity. "I always knew he was a brick," said Hautboy, as he repeated the story, "because he always would ride at everything." "I don't think he'll ever ride again at the fence just out of Gimberley Wood," said Lord Hampstead.
Pushing his way through a gate at Gimberley Green, Lord Hampstead's horse had tumbled down, and all the field had ridden over him. He had been picked up dead, and his body had been carried home to Gorse Hall. Now Lord Hampstead's name had become familiar in King's Court.
Walker and not Lord Hampstead had been kicked and trodden to pieces at Gimberley Green. But even Æolus, great as he was, expressed himself with some surprise that afternoon to Mr. Jerningham as to the singular fortune which had befallen George Roden. "I believe it to be quite true, Mr. Jerningham. These wonderful things do happen sometimes." "He won't stay with us, Sir Boreas, I suppose?"
Then they all started, in great glee, on their hacks, their hunters having been already sent on to Gimberley Green. The main part of the story of that day's sport, as far as we're concerned with it, got itself told so early in the day that readers need not be kept long waiting for the details. Tolleyboy soon relieved these imperious riders from all dangers as to a blank.
It was thus that his mind was filled, as day after day he prepared himself for his hunting, and day after day did his best in keeping to the hounds. Then came that last day in February as to which all those around him expressed themselves to be full of hope. Gimberley Green was certainly the most popular meet in the country, and at Gimberley Green the hounds were to meet on this occasion.
Telegrams were also sent by Lady Amaldina to Lady Persiflage, and especially to Lord Llwddythlw. Vivian sent others to the Civil Service generally. Hautboy was very eager to let everybody know the truth at the Pandemonium. Never before had so many telegrams been sent from the little office at Gimberley.
But there was one for which Hampstead demanded priority, writing it himself, and himself giving it into the hands of the despatching young lady, the daughter of the Gimberley grocer, who no doubt understood the occasion perfectly. To Marion Fay, 17, Paradise Row, Holloway. It was not I who was hurt. Shall be at No. 17 by three on Monday.
Word Of The Day