t Hare and Hounds Club, to me, one March morning in the year 18--. I had no need to be reminded of the appointment; for this was the day of the "great hunt" of the year, always held by the running set at Parkhurst School to yield in interest to no other fixture of the athletic calendar.
In fine weather, and over good country, a paper-chase is one of the grandest sports ever indulged in--at least, so we thought when we were boys--and the "great hunt" was, of course, the grandest run of the year, and looked forward to, consequently, with the utmost eagerness by all lovers of running in our school.
This year, too, I had a special interest in the event, for it was my turn to run "hare"--in other words, to be, with another fellow, the object of the united pursuit of some twenty or thirty of my schoolfellows, who would glory in running me down not a whit less than I should glory in escaping them.
For some weeks previously we had been taking short trial runs, to test our pace and powers of endur