THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 



As the summer season approached, Frank was sometimes 

 put to a nonplus for his pastime ; for, although he was making- 

 great proficiency in angling, and had commenced trying his 

 hand at the gun, change was now and then sought for by him ; 

 and he addressed his father, on the eve of Whit Monday, with 

 — ' To-morrow is our Whitsun fair, papa ; I wash you would let 

 Andrew and myself go to it. I hear there is much fun there 

 after the business of the day is over.' 



' I am glad to hear it,' replied the father ; ' all nations, 

 ancient and modern, have allow^ed and encouraged sports and 

 festivities amongst the lower orders of the people, as the best 

 means of preventing greater and more serious evils ; and he 

 who would check them, when kept within reasonable bounds, 

 commits a great mistake. For my own part, I myself, as a 

 magistrate, rather encourage them, than otherwise ; being 

 convinced that, whatever tends to make people happy, tends 

 to make them good ; and you know we have very little crime 

 in these parts. Now, I have no objection to your brother 

 and yourself riding over to the Whitsun fair, in the cool of 

 the evening, taking your words for not getting into any 

 mischief.' 



Andrew and his brother having partaken of an early dinner, 

 afterwards proceeded, on horseback, to the village revels. And 

 here they met with an incident, which it may not be amiss to 

 relate, as a caution to all fair-goers who are not ' wide aw^ake.' 

 A person approached them at full speed, on rather a shabby- 

 looking pony, whom they found to be the son of the miller at 

 the Abbey, and one who had an excellent opinion of himself, 

 the result, perhaps, of his old father's almost every-day boast, 

 that ' our John is a very 'cute young chap, and not to be done 

 by any on 'em.' ' Oh, young gentlemen,' exclaimed the 

 miller, pulling up the pony with a jerk, ' I hope the Squire 

 is at home.' ' He is,' replied Andrew ; ' but what's the matter, 

 John ? ' ' Oh, sir,' resumed ' our John,' ' I have been sarved 

 such a trick — and I could have sworn the man warn't born 

 that could have done it. You know, gentlemen, our four-year- 

 old colt father bred out of the blind mare, a real soldier^ all 

 over, and honestly worth soldier's price, or a little more ! 

 Well, gentlemen, arter riding him only twice up and down the 



^ In a time of war it is customary for dealers to say of a horse that lie would 

 make a good soldier — meaning a troop-horse. 



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