212 Salmon Fishing. 



Under the promptings of this inborn pro- 

 pensity was I induced, I imagine, at Oxford 

 years ago, to enter a certain nobleman's preserve 

 hard-by to try and bag a brace of his Pheasants, 

 after being twitted by a friend (so called) that 

 I dared not do it. The nobleman in question 

 had earned so unenviable a name among the 

 Under Graduates for strictness and severity, 

 that it necessitated the employment of far more 

 watchers, than would otherwise have been the 

 case. Woe betide the unfortunate youth who 

 was caught with a gun anywhere on his 

 property ! 



My usual attendant in shooting excursions 

 was a crooked-legged, wiry, middle-aged man, 

 for many years of his life a keeper to a well- 

 known Duke in the neighbourhood, and one, I 

 verily believe, who knew every inch of every 

 one's property within a radius of ten miles of 

 Oxford. I told him of my intentions, and 

 though he tried hard to dissuade me, for the 

 fellow had become attached to me, I said that I 



