DICK ROOK. 177 



He appeared not to take the least account of the 

 weather. He would walk, or sit in the rain with 

 as much composure and unconsciousness as a 

 duck or a northern diver ; his skin seemed to have 

 become callous and insensible either to cold or 

 wet, and he trusted his body to the inclemencies 

 of the skies, as confidently as if it was covered 

 with a water-proof cloak. His looks, on the day 

 I first saw him, which was any thing but a warm 

 one, were quite polar. A crystal drop hung like 

 a gem at his nose, and a bitter north-easter, made 

 his eyes stream with tears, freezing as they fell. 



It must not be supposed from what has been 

 said of his habits and mode of passing his time, 

 that his life, apparently so destitute of all that is 

 commonly looked upon as pleasurable, or com- 

 fortable, must necessarily have been a miserable 

 one. Far from it. He was not only cheerful as 

 well as patient, but the very life he led, gave him 

 an interest in the common revolutions of the sea- 

 sons. He had found out the great secret of ease 

 and contentment, in having always something be- 

 fore him that he considered worth doing. He 

 attached much importance to the opportunity of 

 attending a battue, or in following a neighbouring 

 pack of beagles, which his knowledge of the country 

 enabled him to keep up with tolerably well. Some- 

 times he would find a hare sitting, on which occa- 

 sion he received the usual fee. In the summer, 

 I 2 



