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his efforts to escape from it, he plunged and kicked so strenuously, that he nearly unseated his rider, and completely smothered him with

dirt.

Finny had a great mind to turn back and go home by the first train -but what would Mr. Long, Joe, and Ben think? What would Miss Isabella Canterwell say? He, for a moment, resolved to scorn the sneers of the trio, and to invent a run to amuse the lady; but the farmer who rode by his side, highly amused, assured him that they should soon turn into a green lane and ride on good turf. His words were true, and they cantered on together very pleasantly until they arrived at the cover's side, where a field of some twenty or thirty men were assembled, busily engaged in mounting hunters, and lighting cigars, and making other preparations for drawing the gorse.

Finny was quite delighted while the hounds were in cover-it was so pleasant to see the horses and men about him, and to hear their anticipations of a sure find and a breast high scent. Presently an old hound opened, and the pack quickly joined him. One large bunch of high furze seemed chevaux-de-frised with their erected sterns, and all at once such a crash and such a burst was heard, as Finny had never dreamed of.

The fox had broken cover with the pack well upon him, and had bravely taken to the open, over a line that indicated he meant to try his speed with his pursuers. A loud shout of "Gone away! Forward there!" reached Finny's ears. The gray sprung almost from under him, and went off at a frightful pace, amidst a ruck of men trying for a good place. As they were on the side of a hill on downy land, with few or no fences to stop them, for the first five minutes the pace was more like a race than a hunt, and Finny kept his seat well, and would have enjoyed it, but somehow or other he could neither see nor hear any thing distinctly, and the wind took away his breath. As to where the hounds were, or what they were doing, except barking, as he would have termed it, he had not the remotest conception. Still on he went, until he found himself violently jerked up into the air, and coming down into his saddle again, unpleasantly. Then he lost one stirrup, and found himself holdIng on by the clip of his knees. At last a horrid large brook appeared before him, over which, to his dismay, his gray, which was still leading, seemed to mean bounding. He tried to check him. He might as well have tried to stop an avalanche or a drunken cabman. Over went the gallant gray-on-on-on-head and tail up-but where was his rider? at the very bottom of Pinky Brook-so called from being frequently made the deposit of "gents in pink.'

eyes,

Finny emerged to the surface half-drowned with water and mud. As soon as he could scoop the slush and duckweed out of his he beheld, as he floated on his back, all the field, one after anothér, fly over him. He expected every one of them to come in right a-top of him, and he dived convulsively to escape the horrible fate that he thought awaited him. All however got safe over him, but not one stopped to aid him. He did think he heard one good Samaritan cry out, "Stop his horse-I should like to buy him," but he heard no more. He was borne into a sort of eddy in which he was turned and twisted about until he began to feel a choking sensation. He kicked and spluttered, tried to cry for help, felt

his mouth gradually fill with water, and after seeing pleasing visions of green meadows and rivers fringed with flowery banks, went down.

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"Deary me," said Mrs. Rashly, looking at a watch by her side, " I wonder dear Finnikin is not returned. It is ten o'clock, and he said he should be sure to have got the brush, as he called the tail, and be off home in the six o'clock train. I hope nothing is amiss-horses will tumble down, let a young man ride ever so well."

66

Nonsense, mamma," said Miss Letty, "he's very likely gone to dine with some of his noble friends, after his hard day's hunting-you know fox-hunters never part without dining all together at the nearest nobleman's house."

"He must have had a delightful day," said Miss Issy Canterwell, rather smiling than not at her dear friend's remark. "A gray, dull morning, with a mild wind, and that in the right quarter, they must have found early, and had a long run. I make no doubt he is snugly enough in

somewhere or another."

"He may be at the stables," said Mrs. Rashly; see."

"Peter shall run and

Peter did run and see-Jem, who told him to " 'go back and tell the old lady to rack herself up for the night, for the chances were all in favour of her not seeing her son that night. Such a scenting day as that had been might lead a man such a chace that he might not know where he was.'

Mrs. Rashly sat up until the clock had struck twelve, and then retired, but could not sleep, so nervous and fidgetty was she about the fate of her dear boy. She thought over every thing she had ever read of hunting from the days of that fatal chace, whence we derive the schoolboy phrase, chevying, up to the chace of the stag on Easter Monday, and conjured up in her mind's eye the image of her son suffering from every one of the accidents to which aspirants after venerie are liable. Gladly did she hail the daylight, and still more gladly did she join her daughter and young friend at the breakfast-table that she might express her fears to them, and so obtain their sympathy.

her

Not a bit of it. Miss Letty attributed her mother's restlessness to indigestion, the result of under-toasted muffins and weak negus as a bumper at parting. Miss Canterwell attributed her alarms to nightmare, arising from too much anxiety about a horse.

Mrs. Rashly, poor soul, was too much affected at the levity displayed by both to say a word more about her presentiments of evil, so she rang the bell, and desired Peter to bring up the tea-urn.

Peter obeyed, and with the hissing instrument he brought up the morning paper and a very pale face. He trembled so that he could scarcely set the urn upon its rug, and when he had done so he said, "Thank e'ven hit's no wus!"

"He's dead-I know he is-ah-oh-eugh!" screamed Mrs. Rashly.

"Not dead-no-" said Peter.

"A fracture-simple or compound-which? Speak out, you little wretch ?" said Miss Letty.

"Is your master injured?-has he had a fall?-is he seriously wounded?" said Miss Canterwell.

"No, miss, he ain't-he's drownded!" said Peter, looking whiter than he did before.

Mrs. Rashly and her daughter went into a variety of hysterics; the former into pure unmistakables, the latter into the partly assumed. Miss Issy summoned her maid to attend upon Mrs. Rashly, leaving Letty, whom she pretty well knew, to kick as frantically as she pleased on the sofa, while she took the ghastly Peter into the back room, and questioned him, calmly and firmly, as to the genuineness and authenticity of the information he had obtained about his master's fate.

"If you please, miss," began Peter, per, my eyes lighted on—”

66 I
as

was a hirening out the pa

"Gracious! is it really true then ?" said Miss Canterwell.

"There ain't no names mentioned," said Peter, "but who as knowed or ever seed master, could mistake the description of his precious person and pretty pink."

Miss Canterwell seized the paper, and looking at the paragraph pointed out by the tiger's thumb, read,

"Mysterious and probably-by-this-time Fatal Occurrence. The Old Wiltshire hounds had a very splendid run yesterday They met near Downham station. A full field was in attendance, amongst whom we noticed the owner of the noble pack, and all the gentry around, besides a large sprinkling of Oxford men. They found early in Heathy Gorse. Pug was a bold one, and took the open country; after a severe run of forty-five minutes and three quarters, he was run into in gallant style near Cromley Clumps. The distance run is calculated by good judges at thirty miles, two furlongs, and one perch, and only three were up at the death, among whom we noticed the head huntsman and the two whippers-in; all the rest were nowhere, except one-a young gentleman -who was found by the merest chance by a peasant in search of that healthy vegetable, water-cresses, in a brook called Hinkey, Winkey, or Pinkey, we could not ascertain which. He is of small figure, though rather given to embonpoint about the waistband of what delicacy forbids His face is rather what is called chubby, from a supposed resemblance to what piscatorial gents call the chub or chad. His cheveux, or head of hair, rather of the kind called whitey-brown-as applied by the stationers' company to textures of a brownish-white tint. His dress consists of a scarlet hunting frock cut à la chasse, a striped vest, white corded belows, and topped boots. Around his neck was an exceedingly neat schal à l'œil d'oiseaux, in the front of which is placed a brooch or pin, having at its summit a very correct representation of the animal, or, to use a sporting phrase, vermin, which doubtless caused the melancholy situation in which we found him-a fox-the vulpes of Buffon.

us to name.

"When we saw him, through the kindness of a most respectable person who keeps the inn at Downham station, a pretty building, en Suisse, called the Railway Tavern, where chops and civility may be had in perfection, we found him lying on a sofa, surrounded by a medical man, who was applying brandy ad libitum to his fauces. While we assisted at the operation the medical attendant kindly explained that he would have been resuscitated in less than no time had it not been for the ignorance of the countryman, who, in accordance with the vulgar views of persons in his line of life, suspended him in the air by his topped-boots to let the

water run out of his mouth. Having done all we could in dispensing the brandy, we sought all the information we could from an individual apparently of superior talents to his dress, called Ben-the well-known diminutive of Benjamin. He stated on his examination, and over a pint of ale, that the departed ("Oh gracious!" said Miss Canterwell-"Oh my," said Peter, "but go on, do ye, miss") came down by yesterday's train in a horse-box, with a gray hunting nag, longish about the pasterns (or lower legs), and rather a rat-tail. That he had one chop and a cup of tea, played a few games at whist with a gent called Long, or Short, and after a few cigars and a little mild ale, retired to seek that repose so welcome to the weary traveller. Alas! when he closed his eyes-we forgot to mention that they, like his horse, are grays, how little did he think that he should so soon close them for ever! As he could not speak we could not learn his name, either family or baptismal, from himself, and when we instituted a search in his hat and pockets we found nothing in ticket marked Christy's best, and twelve and ninepence in silver and copper money, which induces the host, Mr. Joseph Digger, and Mr. Long or Short, to believe that the peasant must either have robbed him or shaken the rest of his money out of his pockets with the water, as his score amounted to nearly treble the sum found upon him.

"We open our despatch to say, that the surgeon has just announced that he has sure hopes of his recovery, as he has just asked for another cigar, and begged to know how many he was to peg for two fives, a king, and a queen. We hope this hurried account--for you can't be too fast for the rail-will not give any uneasiness to the friends or relations of the unfortunate youth."

"Courage, Peter, courage-depend upon it, your master is alive and well. He has had a ducking, no doubt, but be assured he is not drowned."

“Of course, I am not," said Mr. Finnikin Rashly, entering the room, ghastly pale; "I've been thoroughly soaked though, I must say ; and if I have a peculiar aversion to any thing, it is to being in a brook for a quarter of an hour after a splendid run."

"And where is the gray ?" said Peter.

"Detained by a cursed impudent fellow and a dirty doctor for a thirty-three shilling tavern bill, and a guinea fee at Downham station." "Never mind the money, my dear boy," said Mrs. Rashly, clasping him in her arms. "I'll find that. I've got you safe-that is all I care for-only promise me one thing.'

"Name it, mother."

"Never to go hunting again."

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Rely on it, mamma," said Mr. Finnikin Rashly. "If I have an aversion, it is decidedly against joining THE FIRST MEET OF THE SEASON."

THE RECENT MEETING OF THE COINAGE AT THE ROYAL

MINT.

(EXCLUSIVE REPORT.)

A SHORT time ago, upon the completion of the HALF-FARTHING in the Royal Mint, a full meeting of all the members of the Coinage of Great Britain was therein convened, for the purpose of introducing and installing that newly-created diminutive. The general body assembled early, but the higher coins arrived late; and although they were received with every mark of respect by their humbler brethren, it was clear that they were by no means delighted with the occasion on which they were summoned. The double and treble Sovereign caused, on their entrance, a profound sensation; but when the Five-pound piece made his appearance, the vast weight of that coin, and the broad flood of golden light which he diffused, invested him with a dignity and splendour truly dazzling. Having, with a look of heavy, haughty grandeur surveyed the mixed assembly, he took the chair, which shook as he sunk into it.

The coins present being called over according to their rank, were duly weighed, approved, and admitted, and took their seats in council. The Half-farthing was then summoned, that he might be examined, weighed, named, and received into the Coinage. Previous to these pro

ceedings

The SOVEREIGN rose, and was greeted with repeated rings of applause. He presumed (he said) to address a few words to the assembled Coinage, of which he had the honour to be an unworthy member, prior to the introduction of that new coin which, he believed, had been just created- -some strange coin, of such excessive minuteness, that difficulty had been found in designating it. He spoke without prejudice; he had much respect for both his silver and copper brethren; but was such an addition to their illustrious order required? Was the coin-whatever its value, of which he absolutely knew nothing-wanted? The question could not possibly affect him. As the first practical coin of Britain, he was as far above its influence, as were his noble and ancient friend the GUINEA, and those other elder coins who, though practically useless, he was always happy to see admitted into that high council, as gold coins in their own right. Thus disinterested, he would ask, were the heads of the Coinage to be troubled about such a trifle? Might not the installation be dispensed with altogether? (Sensation.)

The GUINEA (who spoke from the side benches) here craved the courtesy of the Modern Coinage, for permission to say one word, but admitting he had no right. His noble friend had alluded to him as "practically useless:" that remark was of rather more interest to him than the creation of a Half-farthing. (A laugh.) He was a very old coin; he had been called in; but he had yet work to do, and he did it-did it daily, thank Heaven! (Hear.) His young friend, the Sovereign, was a practical coin, true; very useful in trading and commercial affairs. But where was he on the great occasions which ennobled man? Who was the munificent contributor to public charities? (Cheers.) It was.

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