Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 1, 2025
The Flat Hat Hunt had relapsed into its wonted quiet, and 'Larkhall Hill' saw none but the regular attendants, men without the slightest particle of curve in their hats hats, indeed, that looked as if the owners sat upon them when they hadn't them on their heads.
Sponge wending his way home moodily, after having lost his day at Larkhall Hill. Some of our readers will, perhaps, say, why didn't he clap on, and try to catch up the hounds at a check, or at all events rejoin them for an afternoon fox? Gentle reader! Mr.
Spraggon comforted Lord Scamperdale with the assurance that Amelia had no idea of Sponge, who he made no doubt would very soon be out of the country and his lordship went to church and prayed most devoutly for him to go. 'Lord Scamperdale's foxhounds meet on Monday at Larkhall Hill, &c. &c. County Paper.
Having mentioned that its colour was red, it is almost superfluous to add that the door and rails were green. This was a busy morning at Larkhall Hill. It was the first day of the season of my lord's hounds meeting there, and the handsome Mrs.
Larkhall Hill stood in the centre of a circle, on a gentle eminence, commanding a view over a farm whose fertile fields and well-trimmed fences sufficiently indicated its boundaries, and looked indeed as if all the good of the country had come up to it. It was green and luxuriant even in winter, while the strong cane-coloured stubbles showed what a crop there had been.
'No, replied Jawleyford boldly, though he had it in his pocket; 'at least, not that I've seen. Mrs. Jawleyford, perhaps, may have got it, added he. 'Indeed! exclaimed Sponge; 'it was very idle of him. He then proceeded to detail to Jawleyford what the reader already knows, how he had lost his day at Larkhall Hill, and had tried to make up for it by going to the cross-roads.
It occupied both sides of the sandy, rabbit-frequented dell, through which ran a sparkling stream, and it possessed the great advantage to foot-people of letting them see the fox found. Larkhall Hill was, therefore, a favourite both with horse and foot.
Spigot put into a different decanter, and brought in with such an air as precluded either of them saying a word in disparagement of it. 'Where are the hounds next week? asked Sponge, sipping away at it. 'Monday, Larkhall Hill; Tuesday, the cross-roads by Dallington Burn; Thursday, the Toll-bar at Whitburrow Green; Saturday, the kennels, replied Jack. 'Good places? asked Sponge.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking