8 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



to my generous offer to run with both feet 

 bootless. 



Mine was a happy boyhood but by far the great- 

 est happiness came to me as it comes to most 

 in the harvest time of the married state. Let the 

 children come, rejoice and be thankful, and pity 

 those to whom they have been denied. Just 

 half-a-score, enough, but not too many, were given 

 to me. 



Seven sons and dad could play at almost any 

 game ; a little addition and we were a side for 

 cricket ; but my sons had sisters and my sons' friends 

 had sisters too, and the flocks got mixed, and now 

 my sons and daughters are someone else's and some- 

 one else's sons and daughters mine. 



W. K., my photographer, who has been so full of 

 tricks when on the road or by the river that I have 

 slaved with his impedimenta up hills and down dales 

 until he found a scene that pleased him, was the last 

 to go. Listen to him : 



" Dad, we think we should like to go to Devon 

 for our honeymoon, to some quiet place where we 

 can get a little fishing. Bertha thinks she will be 

 fond of fishing." 



Wise Bertha. Where shall I suggest their going? 

 Pictures of scenes tumble out in quick succession 

 and fade away as quickly, leaving one that has a face 

 in every path and by every pool. 



A caressing hand reminded me the lad was waiting, 

 and, as I could not trust myself to tell him then, I 

 asked for time, saying : " There is a week yet before 

 the wedding." 



When he had left me I thought to write him a 

 brief account of where to go, how to get there, the 



