‘“Ay, sir—hee, hee!” says the clerk.
‘So they went on and on, into Green’s Copse, then across to Higher Jirton; then on across this very turnpike-road to Climmerston Ridge, then away towards Yalbury Wood: up hill and down dale, like the very wind, the clerk close to the pa’son, and the pa’son not far from the hounds. Never was there a finer run knowed with that pack than they had that day; and neither pa’son nor clerk thought one word about the unmarried couple locked up in the church tower waiting to get j’ined.
‘“These hosses of yours, sir, will be much improved by this!” says the clerk as he rode along, just a neck behind the pa’son. “’Twas a happy thought of your reverent mind to bring ’em out to-day. Why, it may be frosty in a day or two, and then the poor things mid not be able to leave the stable for weeks.”
‘“They may not, they may not, it is true. A merciful man is merciful to his beast,” says the pa’son.
‘“Hee, hee!” says the clerk, glancing sly into the pa’son’s eye.
‘“Ha, ha!” says the pa’son, a-glancing back into the clerk’s. “Halloo!” he shouts, as he sees the fox break cover at that moment.
‘“Halloo!” cries the clerk. “There he goes! Why, dammy, there’s two foxes—”
‘“Hush, clerk, hush! Don’t let me hear that word again! Remember our calling.”
‘“True, sir, true. But really, good sport do carry away a man so, that he’s apt to forget his high persuasion!” And the next minute the corner of the clerk’s eye shot again into the corner of the pa’son’s, and the pa’son’s back again to the clerk’s. “Hee, hee!” said the clerk.
‘“Ha, ha!” said Pa’son Toogood.