44 SPORT. 



I refilled the pond but never fished in it again ; 

 I knew what was in it, and also what was not in 

 it. Its mystery, and with it its glory, had departed. 

 So it is with shooting — I hate to know how many 

 pheasants there are in a wood, how many coveys 

 in a partridge beat, how many birds in a covey. 

 So it is, of course, with everything else in life. 

 Whatever is reduced to a certainty ceases to charm, 

 and, but for the element of risk or chance — uncer- 

 tainty in short — not only every sport or amusement, 

 but even every operation and transaction of this 

 world, would be tame and irksome. If we fore- 

 knew the result we would seldom do anything, 

 and would eventually be reduced to the condition 

 of the bald, toothless, toeless, timid, sedentary, and 

 incombative "man of the future" foreshadowed re- 

 cently by a very advanced writer. How few would 

 even marry a wife if the recesses of her mind were 

 previously laid as bare as my fish-pond ! And how 

 few women would accept a husband under similar 

 circumstances ! So that the elimination of the 



