MARLBOROUGH COLLEGE. 99 



the pistol went off as my companion was looking down the muzzle, 

 and the bullet went through the peak of polished leather which 

 adorned his hat. Again, when I stuck up the ladle as a mark, the 

 bullet, fired true, whizzed round, and returning struck me on the 

 chest. Soon after another boy borrowed this dangerous weapon, 

 and as he was dealing destruction far and wide, the detectives, 

 hearing the unwonted noise, appeared upon the scene, which 

 terminated — not unjustly * I allow — in his being flogged and the 

 pistol confiscated. If that article is in the College museum now, 

 the authorities need have no fear of my ever claiming it, as I claim 

 the books which I have already mentioned. 



But I soon found another way to satisfy my love for sport. In 

 my day Mr. Somerset, who kept innumerable white pea-fowl, 

 occupied the farm in the valley on the left, going to the cricket 

 ground, and about a mile along the valley his shepherd lived in a 

 small isolated cottage. This man possessed a gun which he would 

 let me have for a small consideration, and on half-holidays, when I 

 had any money, I often paid a visit to the cottage, and passed an 

 hour or so in shooting sparrows, tom-tits, or any mortal thing which 

 happened to come by. The first bird I killed was a wretched 

 goldfinch, which I kept in my pocket as long as I could conveniently 

 do so, and during school hours I would exhibit it with much pride 

 to my neighbours. 



I hope to pay a visit to Marlborough soon, and so vividly 

 are the various scenes impressed upon my memory, that I shall 

 almost expect to see the white pea-fowl, the old gun, and the old 

 man who. lent it out. But I fancy they have all long since passed 

 away, as I am talking of nearly fifty years ago. Even young 

 Mr. Somerset, who menaced me with a whip when he caught me 

 standing on the rafters of his barn probing the thatch in search of 

 sparrow's eggs, but released me when he found I plied a useful 



* Perhaps some will remark that I don't object to other boys being flogged, whilst I cry out myself. 

 Well ! it certainly does make some difference. Such is the weakness of mortal nature ; and there is this to be 

 said, that the boy not only refused to refund the value of my pistol, but gave me a good licking for lending it 

 to him and getting him into troubl--. 



H2 



