256 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



most, and have often felt glad when the day was 

 drawing to its close that the evening meal did not 

 depend upon what I was carrying home. 



Harry's hohday was far too brief, and the time for 

 our return, coming as it did while the weather was 

 still summer-hke and the sport at sea good, came much 

 too soon. Regretfully we said good-bye to pleasant 

 ac;quaintances, to our host and hostess, and to Mike 

 and Tony, all of whom had helped to our enjoyment. 



They were happy days, and happy have been 

 those spent with men who, as tired as myself of 

 ordered life, have made a break in it. September 

 friends I have who love to see partridges on the wing 

 and upon their plates on the first of that good month, 

 and November friends who say that to shoot a pheasant 

 coming with the wind, and swerving here and there 

 to avoid the branches of the taller trees, is by far 

 the grandest sport of all. To wear gaiters and carry 

 a gun is excuse sufficient for a surgeon I have often shot 

 with. He seldom fires, and, when he does, it is generally 

 just to give an echo to his chum Tom Wilson's gun. 



A clerg^'man, whose duty it is ever to be reading 

 the burial service, sometimes comes fishing with me, 

 bringing with him the echoes of his calling. It is 

 good to see him seated on a stool, half hidden amongst 

 sedge and rush, fishing a baited swim, for when the 

 fish commence to bite I notice by the happy twinkle in 

 his eyes and by his joyous talk that the saintly parson 

 has gone and my companion is a mere joyous man. 



We are all children's children of nomad fathers 

 with somewhere in our hearts a longing to tread the 

 turf. That longing has ever been with me. I feel 

 out of place in crowds, and the rush, tumult, and 

 anxiety of a city life is a battle I have had to take 

 a part in much against my will, but, thanks to days 

 stolen for sport, I liave come through smiling. 



LONDON AND GLASGOW: COLLINS CLEAR-TYPE PRESS. 



