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Hunting The Fox
by
And then Dicky said, “Let’s go hunting.”
And we decided that we would. H. O. wanted to go down to the village and get penny horns at the shop for the huntsmen to wind, like in the song, but we thought it would be more modest not to wind horns or anything noisy, at any rate not until we had run down our prey. But his talking of the song made us decided that it was the fox we wanted to hunt. We had not been particular which animal we hunted before that.
Oswald let Denny have first go with the pistol, and when we went to bed he slept with it under his pillow, but not loaded, for fear he should have a nightmare and draw his fell weapon before he was properly awake.
Oswald let Denny have it, because Denny had toothache, and a pistol is consoling though it does not actually stop the pain of the tooth. The toothache got worse, and Albert’s uncle looked at it, and said it was very loose, and Denny owned he had tried to crack a peach-stone with it. Which accounts. He had creosote and camphor, and went to bed early, with his tooth tied up in red flannel.
Oswald knows it is right to be very kind when people are ill, and he forebore to wake the sufferer next morning by buzzing a pillow at him, as he generally does. He got up and went over to shake the invalid, but the bird had flown and the nest was cold. The pistol was not in the nest either, but Oswald found it afterwards under the looking-glass on the dressing-table. He had just awakened the others (with a hair-brush because they had not got anything the matter with their teeth), when he heard wheels, and, looking out, beheld Denny and Albert’s uncle being driven from the door in the farmer’s high cart with the red wheels.
We dressed extra quick, so as to get down-stairs to the bottom of the mystery. And we found a note from Albert’s uncle. It was addressed to Dora, and said:
“Denny’s toothache got him up in the small hours. He’s off to the dentist to have it out with him, man to man. Home to dinner.”
Dora said, “Denny’s gone to the dentist.”
“I expect it’s a relation,” H. O. said. “Denny must be short for Dentist.”
I suppose he was trying to be funny–he really does try very hard. He wants to be a clown when he grows up. The others laughed.
“I wonder,” Dicky said, “whether he’ll get a shilling or half-a-crown for it.”
Oswald had been meditating in gloomy silence, now he cheered up and said:
“Of course! I’d forgotten that. He’ll get his tooth money, and the drive too. So it’s quite fair for us to have the fox-hunt while he’s gone. I was thinking we should have to put it off.”
The others agreed that it would not be unfair.
“We can have another one another time if he wants to,” Oswald said.
We know foxes are hunted in red coats and on horseback–but we could not do this–but H. O. had the old red football jersey that was Albert’s uncle’s when he was at Loretto. He was pleased.
“But I do wish we’d had horns,” he said, grievingly. “I should have liked to wind the horn.”
“We can pretend horns,” Dora said; but he answered, “I didn’t want to pretend. I wanted to wind something.”
“Wind your watch,” Dicky said. And that was unkind, because we all know H. O.’s watch is broken, and when you wind it, it only rattles inside without going in the least.
We did not bother to dress up much for the hunting expedition–just cocked hats and lath swords; and we tied a card on to H. O.’s chest with “Moat House Fox-Hunters” on it; and we tied red flannel round all the dogs’ necks to show they were fox-hounds. Yet it did not seem to show it plainly; somehow it made them look as if they were not fox-hounds, but their own natural breeds–only with sore throats.