But now this matter was told his presence
would be allowed! And then this fox-hunting meeting was summoned
for half-past twelve on a hunting day;--when, as all the world
knew, the hounds were to meet at eleven, twelve miles off! Was
ever anything so base? said the Major to himself. But he resolved
that he would be equal to the occasion. He immediately issued
cards to all the members, stating that on that day the meet had
been changed from Croppingham Bushes, which was ever so much on
the other side of Bagshot, to the Bobtailed Fox,--for the benefit
of the hunt at large, said the card,--and that the hounds would be
there at half-past one.
Whatever might happen, he must show a spirit. In all this there
were one of two of the London brigade who stood fast to him. 'Cock
your tail, Tifto,' said one hard-riding supporter, 'and show 'em
you aren't afraid of nothing.' So Tifto cocked his tail and went
to the meeting in his best new scarlet coat, and with his whitest
breeches, his pinkest boots, and his neatest little bows at his
knees. He entered the room with his horn in his hand, as a symbol
of authority, and took off his hunting-cap to salute the assembly
with a jaunty air.
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