THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 



diately told me of what had happened, and requested that 

 you sliould be informed of it, sir, for which I gave him 

 praise.' 



' That was much to his credit,' resumed our young sports- 

 man. ' Jack always was a good fellow, and I am sure he 

 would almost as soon have had his own leg in a trap of his 

 own setting as that of a fox ; but, in future, let him give over 

 setting traps of any sort. I hear keepers say rabbit-traps do 

 no harm, but I know to the contrary ; they not only will hold 

 and maim foxes, but foxes will not lie in covers where they 

 are set.' 



In our zeal for the success of the stables and kennel, we 

 have passed over the family at the Abbey without a word of 

 notice. After an absence of some months, and those forming 

 part of the second year after the melancholy event that 

 occurred, in the death of the eldest son, Frank Raby was not 

 void of anxiety, on his arrival at the Abbey, as to the state in 

 which he might find his father and mother. In Mr. Raby he 

 observed little, if any, visible alteration either in person or 

 manner. As regarded the former, his uniform habits of life, 

 a naturall}^ sound constitution, regular out-of-door exercise, 

 and, up to a late period, almost uninterrupted prosperity, if 

 they had not bidden defiance to the all-consuming power of 

 Time, had caused his hand to fall so lightly upon him, that, 

 in the eyes of Frank, he did not appear to be a da}' older than 

 when he first knew him as his father; and as regarded the 

 latter— his demeanour in the family circle — he had called both 

 philosophy and religion to his aid in bearing up against a blow 

 which he had not the power to ward ofi". But not so the 

 amiable and motherly Lady Charlotte. The loss of her 

 favourite son — the first-born of her love — had so scathed and 

 scorched her soul, that neither the sympathy and kind ojSices 

 of her friends, nor the most delicate and cherishing attentions 

 of her family — still less the occupation and amusements sought 

 out for her, were able to dissipate her grief, and wean her from 

 the recollection of her child, and the tragical scenes she had 

 gone through. She would occasionally appear joyless where 

 all around was gay; the hue of health and contentment had 

 nearly forsaken her complexion ; and her smiles, which were 

 wont to be so redundant, were now as transient and fleeting 

 as an April sun, peeping from beneath a watery cloud, but 



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