DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 21 



cut to distant farms, tempted us from the river's 

 course into depths of woodland, where the sunlight 

 flickered down and gave us peeps into deep mystic 

 shades where fairies might be seen if we approached 

 quite noiselessly. Where are the fairies ? We 

 had often seen their dancing-rings in the meadows, 

 quite bare and brown with midnight use ; where 

 can they now be hiding? Our faith in fairies, so 

 firmly planted in us while too young to learn aught 

 else, had taken so deep a root that my twenty and 

 my companion's seventeen years of life had not 

 nearly worn it out. It softened our tread and 

 speech so much, as we peered here and there in 

 our indefinite expectations, that, when we glanced 

 round corners, rabbits sat up and looked at us, and 

 hares hopped across the path without the slightest 

 haste. Squirrels that could have told us all we 

 wished to know, at least they looked as if they 

 could, peeped down and round trunks of trees at 

 us, and then raced each other from branch to 

 branch as if to show us the measure of their happi- 

 ness. All was so quiet that the undulating flight 

 of a popinjay, which perched on a branch near by, 

 was audible before we saw her or heard the call 

 which quickly brought her brilliantly-coated and 

 moustached lord. We gazed and wondered, first 

 at their perfect forms and colours, and then at the 

 glorious garden in which they enjoyed such perfect 

 trust and happiness, while we two mortals, as 

 completely happy as ever mortals were, had every 

 nerve quite highly strung, looking and listening 

 for we knew not what. So still were we that two 

 pheasants commenced a fight within ten yards of 

 where we stood. First one, and then the other, 



