this could not
inspire him. They cleared the fences, four and five feet high with
perfect ease, showing they were quite at home in the saddle. But alas
for the poor American! As his fine steed came up to the first fence, and
was about to make the leap, Jerome pulled at the bridle, and cried at
the top of his voice, "Whoa! whoa! whoa!" the horse at the same time
capering about, and appearing determined to keep up with the other
animals.

Away dashed the huntsmen, following the hounds, and all were soon lost
to the view of their colored companion. Jerome rode up and down the
field looking for a gate or bars, that he might get through without
risking his neck. Finding, however, that all hope of again catching up
with the party was out of the question, he determined to return to the
house, under a plea of sudden illness, and back he accordingly went.

"I hope no accident has happened to your honor," said the groom, as he
met our hero at the gate.

"A slight dizziness," was the answer.

One of the servants, without being ordered, went at once for the family
physician. Ashamed to own that his return was owing to his inability
to ride, Jerome resolved to feign sickness. The doctor came, felt
his pulse, examined his tongue, and pronounced him a sick man. He
immediately ordered a tepid bath, and sent for a couple of leeches.

Seeing things taking such a serious turn, the American began to regret
the part he was playing; for there was no fun in being rubbed and
leeched when one was in perfect health. He had gone too far to recede,
however, and so submitted quietly to the directions of the doctor; and,
after following the injunctions given by that learned Esculapius, was
put to bed.

Shortly after, the sound of the horns and the yelp of the hounds
announced that the poor fox had taken the back track, and was repassing
near the house. Even the pleasure of witnessing the beautiful sight from
the window was denied our hero; for the physician had ordered that he
must be kept in perfect quiet.

The chase was at last over, and the huntsmen all in, sympathizing with
their lost companion. After nine days of sweating, blistering, and
leeching, Jerome left his bed convalescent, but much reduced in flesh
and strength. This was his first and last attempt to follow the fox and
hounds.

During his fortnight's stay at Colonel G.', Jerome spent most of his
time in the magnificent library. Claude did not watch with more interest
every