70 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



Jim, who is slightly podgy I mean it kindly, Jim 

 and three inches shorter than I, was a sight that 

 moved my pity when he was swinging for a turn, 

 on a certain hot September day, next to George. 

 I knew he would have to give in, but it was none 

 the less pathetic to see him and his dog halt in 

 mid-field. Jim's spaniel was the best-broken dog 

 I ever knew ; nothing would cause him to break 

 away, or stray more than a dozen yards for the 

 hottest scent, unless urged to seek a wounded bird, 

 but he was sorely tried by this sudden halt, coming 

 without apparent cause, and when he sat up and 

 saw the man on stilts still going on, he commenced 

 to whine and howl, fearing his master meditated 

 going home. This proved so startling to the birds 

 that coveys rose in all directions and the field was 

 spoilt. After that Jim's pace was studied and, as 

 a consequence, the shooting much improved." 



I had much more to say but a whirr, some foot in 

 length, and then a longer whirr, told that a fish of 

 some weight was on the line. I am pretty nimble 

 but the trifling detour round the spread china gave 

 someone else as quick as myself a start, and Nell 

 had the rod before me. We crowded round, and 

 there was some surprise that, even when the fish 

 turned a somersault in the air, I offered no advice. 

 I knew that the slightest chance of a success all her 

 own would be preferable to interference however 

 helpful. 



She fought the battle with varying hopes, made 

 acute by the knowledge that it was a trout of seven 

 pounds at least that had leapt so high. To watch 

 the struggle was sufficient to excite hopes and fears 

 alternately. The slack line, so long in coming taut, 



