About Fox Hunting in Ireland.
|December 4th, 2007||#1|
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Fox Hunting in Ireland. info
Word from the master came for the last of that group to dismount and close a gate. When my son checked, he found that they had left the rest far behind, so he took on the job. But, as can be their wont, his horse had no desire to stop. He was enjoying the chase just a little too much. However, he was brought to a halt, and was led back to the gate. As the gate was closed, the horse managed to tear the reins from my son's hand and take off, but he was not quite quick enough and my son dived and took another grab and grasp of the reins, whereupon he was torn off his feet , flew through the air and found himself deposited face first in the hugest puddle of cow-s*** in Ireland.
Then the horse took the opportunity to take off at speed.
My son found himself alone, miles from nowhere, with no idea of where he was and where he was to follow! Also - he was completely covered in cow-s***.
Undeterred, he struggled on, as always, found his horse, remounted and managed to pick the trail. Eventually he made ground on the leaders, and they spotted him as he approached.
Bloody Hell, they shouted - Its Al Jolson!
English by the grace of God.
Last edited by Del Boy; December 4th, 2007 at 14:12..
|December 4th, 2007||#6|
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Tell him not to worry, it's great for the complexion.
|December 4th, 2007||#7|
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Right Spike, and, it seems, for the reputation. The horsemen of Limerick loved it and he is riding high. As it happens, he is always a winner. Limerick, Harlem, Greenwich Village, San Francisco - there's always a story about Nic.
|December 5th, 2007||#10|
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"It doesn't take a hero to order men into battle. It takes a hero to be one of those men who goes into battle." - Norman Schwarskopf, Commander of Desert Storm Operations