Albert Kinross

“ Presently we joined the procession to the twenty-acre meadow, and saw the stag uncarted—an old and knowing rogue who understood the game. And then came the hounds and two hundred men and women and children streaming on their mounts. It was a picture, English—so truly English under that March sky and spreading over those green acres of green turf!
“Bravo!” shouted the Baron standing erect and following with his eyes. The gigantic farmer was sitting a gigantic horse beside us. “It's a sight,” he said, “it's a sight!' The Baron asked him why he was not with the hunt. ”

“ It was the most popular win of the afternoon; and the very bookies that had lost money over him cheered him, those same bookies who had edged and sidled in to breakfast a month ago. It had been good riding and good thinking, pluck and judgment and a seasoned horse that had long ago made friends with its master and understood.... “And that man is a vicar,” repeated my friend, the German baron, “What a waste of a fine soldier—what a waste!” ”

“ He greeted us and found us seats near a gigantic turkey that was being carved by a gigantic farmer whose daughter had been one of the Amazons in the hall—the younger generation inclines now towards Amazonhood, and the land is making money again after years of loss. The gigantic turkey had been set aside for this function; as it progressed in size and girth its doom was sealed. “These are your peasants,” whispered the Baron, looking round upon a score of weather-worn faces; “they give up a day's work for sport?” ... ”