siasm. "A paper-chase is the best
fun in the world. I'll see you start and give you a cheer."

"You can't do that," said Helen firmly, "because we've settled that
you're to carry the bag and be the hare."

"Come, come," I said, "this is an unworthy proposal. Would you chase
your more than middle-aged father over the open country? Never. How
could he look the village in the face if he were to be seen scattering
little bits of paper from a linen bag? He would fall in their
estimation and would drag you all with him in his fall. John," I said,
"you would not have your father fall, would you?"

"It would make me laugh," said John, and the rest seemed to think that
this callous remark settled the matter.

"Anyhow," I said, "I must have plenty of law."

"We won't have any law," said Helen, who is an intelligent child;
"it's all quarrellings."

"Law," I said, "is the embodiment of human wisdom. In this case it
means that I'm going to have ten minutes' start. Everyone of you
must pledge his or her honour not to move until I've been gone ten
minutes."

They made no difficulty about this, and, the lady of the house having
appointed herself time-keeper and having promised to have a large
tea ready for us when we returned, I was sent on my way with a bag of
paper and many shrill shouts of encouragement.

Now I ask my colleagues in the parental business to consider my case.
I daresay they fancy themselves as runners on the strength of their
remembered boyish feats and of certain more recent runs when they have
lingered too long over breakfast and have had to catch a train. I warn
them not to build a paper-chase on so slender a foundation. A jog-trot
seems the easiest thing in the world, but after two hundred yards the
temptation to lapse into a walk becomes irresistible. I will dwell no
further on my own experiences, but transfer myself in imagination to
the hounds who were chasing me. Afterwards I heard so much of their
exploits that I almost came to feel I had shared in their daring and
been a party to their final success.

From the garden door the line led across the road and on to a track
skirting the railway. This piece was taken at a brisk pace, the scent
being breast-high. A sheet might have covered the whole pack. Then
came a hairpin turn over the level crossing, a swing to the right and
a steady trudge up the hill. Half-way up there were gates to the right
and the left, and here the blown but wary hare had laid h