18 FACT AGAINST FICTION. 



pheasant with one of my eleven-gauge, old muzzle - 

 loading Jolni Mantons, but with the usual forcible 

 shooting of that splendid gun. A tall-growing 

 ash sapling intervened between me and. the 

 pheasant, but the blow by which the gun cut down 

 the impediment occasioned extraordinary diversion 

 in the charge, for the boy immediately at the heels 

 of Foley tumbled over, ramrod and all, and 

 cried out tliat '^ he was shot." From our re- 

 spective j^ositions, the exclamation of tlio boy 

 was beyond my conception, yet there he lay on 

 liis back, his hand up to his face, and Foley 

 standing over him. To add to my unspeakable 

 mystification, the late Mr. Foley rushed up, and, 

 staring with spectacles on nose into the boy's face, 

 rather relieved my mind by loudly asseverating 

 that ^' the boy was in a fit, and speechless, at tlie 

 point of death." Of course, being totally unable 

 to account for any mischief from my gun, I 

 rushed into the liollow and up the other side, 

 just in time to share in the folloAving comedy, 

 Til ere stood Henry Foley, and there leaned his 

 father, l)ending liimself over the supposed-to-be- 

 dying urcliin, who still retained possession of tlie 

 extra ramrod, but from whom not one syllabic of 



