1 70 ANGLING SKETCHES 



a low bedstead, a shelf or two, whereon lay a few 

 books a Shakespeare, a Homer, a Walton, 

 Plutarch's ' Lives ' ; very little else out of a library 

 once so rich. There was a tub of oatmeal, a heap 

 of dry peat, two or three eggs in a plate, some 

 bottles, a keg of whiskey, some sardine-tins, a box 

 with clothes that was nearly all the ' plenishing ' 

 of this hermitage. It was never likely to be dis- 

 covered, except by the smoke, when the inmate 

 lit a fire. The local shepherd knew it, of course, 

 but Allen had bought his silence, not that there 

 were many neighbours for the shepherd to tattle 

 with. 



Allen had recovered strength enough by this 

 time to reach his den with little assistance. He 

 made me beat up the white of one of the eggs 

 with a little turpentine, which was probably, under 

 the circumstances, the best styptic for his malady 

 within his reach. I lit his fire of peats, undressed 

 him, put him to bed, and made him as comfortable 

 as mifjht be in the den which he had chosen. 



o 



Then I went back to the shepherd's, sent a mes- 

 senger to the nearest doctor, and procured a kind 



