19th Century or early 20th century riding bowler with trolley for hooking onto your hunt coat collar to keep it from flying away. Its crown is cracked. The grosgrain silk is rusty and the felt is a bit moth-eaten. I overpaid for it.
But I love it. It has a certain macabre slyness to it that hints at memories of other places and cooler weather and rakish sensibilities.
There were no hurt feelings at these foxhunts, no guilt about blood sport, no politically correct sensitivities. There was just good sport, lathered horses, dead foxes and good bourbon in silver cups.
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