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I was two years old, a circumstance happened, which I have never forgotten. It was early in the spring; there had been a little frost in the night and a light mist still hung over the plantations and meadows. I, and the other colts were feeding at the lower part of the field, when we heard, quite in the distance, what sounded like the cry of dogs. The oldest of the colts raised his head, pricked his ears, and said "There are the hounds!" and immediately cantered off, followed by the rest of us to the upper part of the field, where we could look over the hedge and see several fields beyond. My mother, and an old riding horse of our master's were also standing near, and seemed to know all about it.

"They have found a hare," said my mother, "and if they come this way, we shall see the hunt."

And soon the dogs were all tearing down the field of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such a noise as they made. They did not bark, nor howl, nor whine, but kept on a "yo! yo, o, o! yo! yo, o, o," at the top of their voices. After them came a number of men on horse-back, some of them in scarlet coats, all galloping as fast as they could. The old horse snorted and looked eagerly after them,