WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 
CHAPTER I. 
REVERIES. 
““The childhood shows the man, 
As morning shows the day.’’ 
WHEN Thomas Hood wrote those beautiful lines, * I 
remember, I remember, the place where I was born,” he 
had passed the days of his youth, and was in the bloom 
of a vigorous manhood. Of the many beautiful poems, 
emanating from his fertile brain, this one must have 
afforded him the greatest pleasure in writing, and no 
doubt was the one he loved best. Itnot only came from 
his brain, but sprang from the deepest recesses of his 
heart. ‘He remembered, he remembered, the place 
where he was born.” Why did he remember it? Be- 
cause, after years had rolled over his head, changing 
the golden hair of youth into the sombre hue of man- 
hood, streaking with gray the hair of his later years, he 
could look back into the past, ruminate over the joys 
and sorrows of his life, and recall with pleasure and 
gratification the scenes of his early childhood. And 
who cannot ? 
I have in my mind’s eye at this moment, a youth of 
