“They were the keenest fellows I ever met; devoted to one another really, but out beagling they constantly cursed one another into heaps. The first hare I killed in my first season, February 5th, 1901, is the hunt I remember best. Chiefly because there wasn’t an atom of scent, and I really ran her to death myself (she must have been very weak!). Hounds were behind, instead of in front of me, most of the way; and we tracked and viewed her practically all the way from the Bath Road near Cippenham to the river at Boveney. There was snow on the ground, and we kept on seeing her about half a mile ahead on the big fields between Cippenham and Dorney Common. I nearly ran my inside out; and eventually, when she was in the river, had to go in up to my middle to get her out.” If I had to mention any Master whom Champion talks about more than the others, it would be C. Romer Williams, who hunted the E.C.H. in 1904. Champion avows that the reason why he was so successful was that he was not really a first flighter, and by the time he had come up hounds had had plenty of time to fling for themselves, and then, says Champion, “he always did the right thing.” It might be claimed that last year’s Master, T. C. Barnett-Barker, showed excellent sport for the same reason. Certainly he was never in the first flight, but his patience and perseverance were inexhaustible, and they seldom went unrewarded. Mr. Romer Williams writes: “I had a very nice lot of hounds when I was Master, about twenty couple as far as I can remember, and only had one real bit of bad luck, having three hounds killed on the railway near Burnham Beeches station one day. “I was the first Master to hunt during the Winter Half, but no ‘field’ was allowed, only self and whips. During the Christmas holidays I took the hounds home to Northamptonshire, and we had great sport, though they went terribly fast in that grass country. One night, coming home, Champion got cramp in the stomach and fell off the ‘hound van,’ and I nearly drove over him and put an end to his career. “The best hunt I had was from near Butts to Beaconsfield Common—a point of about eight miles, I suppose. The best day was an ‘invitation’ meet at Colonel Van de Weyer’s—the other side of the river. We caught the first hare in the river after a good hunt of about an hour, then a second one in the open after a very fast and straight twenty minutes or so, and finally yet a third also in the open after a wonderful hunt of about two hours. But all this is in the diary, and I may now be exaggerating. “The invitation meets at Wooburn, Col. Gilbey’s place, always used to kill me. Those hills were the devil! Col. Gilbey’s son Ronald was my first whip, and I generally used to throw the horn at him, as he was a far better runner than I.