"Of course," he said as we parted, "we'll miss you to-night."
"Oh," I said, "I hope not. I expect to get there."
"I don't see how you can make it," said he. "You have a lot of material
to gather."
"I shall work fast."
"Well," said he, trying to speak like the voice of Conscience, "I hope
you won't forget your _duty_--that's all."
"I proposed this party to-night. It is my duty to be there."
"You didn't make any definite engagement," said he, "and, besides, your
first duty is to your editors and your readers."
Having tossed me this disgusting thought, he departed in a cloud of
dust, leaving me sad and alone, but not yet altogether in despair.
The last race over, I hastened to Mr. Thomas's house, which, by this
time, looked like an old English hunting print come to life, for it was
now crowded with pink coats. For most of the technical information
contained in this chapter I am indebted to various gentlemen whom I
encountered there.
In Virginia--which is the oldest fox-hunting State in the Union, the
sport having been practised there for nearly two centuries--the words
"hunt" or "hunting" never by any chance apply to shooting, but always
refer to hunting the fox with horse and hounds. A "hunter" is not a man
but a horse; a huntsman is not a member of the hunt but a hunt-servant;
the "field" may be the terrain ridden over by the hunt, or it may be
the group of riders following the hounds--"hunt followers," "hunting
men," and "hunting women.
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