CHAPTER XV 



August on the Moors: The Morning Start 



OF course for the man who means to make a heavy 

 bag on scientific principles and extreme economy 

 of exertion it is short-sighted policy to be up and 

 about with the " skriegh of day." The sluggard may 

 ask for a little more sleep with a clear conscience, 

 muttering as he turns himself over about the more 

 haste and the worse speed. To say nothing of the 

 scent and the birds, mortal flesh and blood, especially 

 when wretchedly out of condition, can't work from an 

 August dawn to a sunset dinner, and shoot as steadily 

 at the end as at the beginning. So if you go in for 

 the bag and the bare sport, you may just as well be out 

 during the orthodox hours when other Christians of 

 your hemisphere are pursuing their business or their 

 pleasure. But then there are the associations that 

 hurry you back in spirit to that twelfth of auld lang 

 syne when you were a boy. The freshness of that 

 early morning air is so exhilarating that you scarcely 

 sadden yourself with thinking of the torpor of feeling 



that has grown on you these many years. It is some- 



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