He had taken two glasses of sherry brandy, and
as long as the stimulant lasted would no doubt be able to support
himself with audacity.
Old Mr Topps, in rising from his chair, did not say very much. He
had been hunting in the Runnymede country for nearly fifty years,
and had never seen anything so sad as this before. It made him, he
knew, very unhappy. As for foxes, there were always plenty of
foxes in his coverts. His friend Mr Jawstock, on the right, would
explain what all this was about. All he wanted was to see the
Runnymede hunt properly kept up. Then he sat down, and Mr Jawstock
rose to his legs.
Mr Jawstock was a gentleman well known in the Runnymede country,
who had himself been instrumental in bringing the Major into these
parts. There is often someone in a hunting country who never
becomes a master of hounds himself, but who has almost as much to
say about the business as the master himself. Sometimes at hunt
meetings he is rather unpopular, as he is always inclined to talk.
But there are occasions on which his services are felt to be
valuable,--as were Mr Jawstock's at present.
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