CHAPTER IV. 

 THE CONFESSIONS OF A FANCIER. 



EARLY in life I developed a taste for " keeping " 

 things. I kept foreign postage stamps. I kept 

 rabbits, goats, and canaries. I kept a revolver, 

 with which I shot cats and zinc chimney-pots. 

 My father owning most of the zinc chimney-pots 

 within circuit of our shooting excursions, on 

 principle objected to our Cockney sportsmanship 

 (a companion shot with me an apprentice of 

 my father's, an old ally and school chum of mine). 

 He thought we might find rational amusement 

 more suitable to young gentlemen than perforat- 

 ing zinc chimney-pots and frightening peaceable 

 and well-paying tenants. He did not heed the 

 perforated cats they were not his property. 

 We sold the revolver, and bought pigeons at 

 Club Row. 



Oh the feast of feather, form, and beauty 

 displayed in that dilapidated old thoroughfare 



