“Gizana?” I asked, with the air of a connoisseur.

“Yes. Then run him along the road with you. When you come to a little clearing in the wood stop and look about you, and don’t come back to me without a hare.”

Accordingly I tied my handkerchief round Gizana’s soft neck, and set off running at full speed towards the appointed spot, Papa laughing as he shouted after me, “Hurry up, hurry up or you’ll be late!”

Every now and then Gizana kept stopping, pricking up his ears, and listening to the hallooing of the beaters.

Whenever he did this I was not strong enough to move him, and could do no more than shout, “Come on, come on!” Presently he set off so fast