I qo The Bore of the Hunt 



.schoolboys wovild term it, we ^ver heard issue from his 

 inventive lips was in the smoking-room, one night, at a 

 country house, where we were both guests. The conver- 

 sation turned on the extraordinary things sometimes found 

 in the bellies of fish when caught : " Ah ! " struck in the 

 Baron, *^ I'll tell you fellows a funny thing that happened 

 to me in Wales last year." (Markey had some property in 

 the principality.) *' I was mooning about one day all by my- 

 self with my gun, when, casting my eye towards the river, 

 -what should I see but my keeper, who was fishing for the 

 house, just in the act of playing a, salmon. Shouldering 

 my gun, I walked towards him, and got there just in time 

 ,to see him land his fish — a thirty-pounder. 'What shall 

 I do with him, sir ? ' enquired he. ' Shall I take him up 

 to the house just as he is, or shall I split him open for 

 kipperin' ? Indeed to goodness ! ' exclaimed Owen 

 Thomas, ' but he is a fine fish. I declare I did never see 

 abetter — no, nevar ! ' 'Yes,' replied I, 'he is a good 

 fish. Suppose you spHt him for kippering.' No sooner 

 said than done. Owen had his knife in him before you 

 could say Jack Robinson, and as he opened him, what do 

 you think flew out of his inside ? You'll never guess. 

 Do you give it up ?" "Yes," we all shouted in unison, 

 " we all give it up. What was it, Markey ? " "A brace 

 of partridges ! " he answered, " a brace of partridges, as I 

 live." '' By Jove ! " exclaimed his laughing, and, of course, 

 astonished audience; " well, that was a rum go if you 

 like." *' By the way," squeaked little Tom Trimmer, after 

 a pause, from the depths of his armchair, " what became of 

 the brace of birds, old fella ? You didn't tell us that, dont- 

 cherknow." " Ah, I declare, I quite forgot the partridges ; 

 glad you reminded me," replied the unblushing narrator, 



