64 SPORTSMEN 



civilisation will be better than the green 

 fields so foully ravaged. But it is nothing 

 to do with me. The happy, happy days 

 of boyhood are gone for ever, with their 

 hopes and their friendships: I shall never 

 go there again, nor shall I hear the wood- 

 larks singing there on a morning of May, 

 nor watch the kingfisher as he draws a 

 sapphire line to the pit where every spring 

 we found his nest. All these are dead: let 

 the houses and the streets obliterate the 

 place for ever. 



