CHAPTER II 



" HAMPSHIRE DAYS " l 



July, 1903. 



| N a glorious evening in the last week 

 of June we my young grandson 

 and I were playing at toss-ball 

 under the trees on the common. 

 "Heigho!" shouted Eric; "there's a stag- 

 beetle ! " Off he went and I followed. He was 

 buzzing about, apparently aimlessly, sometimes 

 over the young lime trees and sometimes just 

 over our heads. Eric threw his cap at him, and 

 so did I. Presently he floundered into a lower 

 branch among the leaves, and I easily hooked 

 him down into the long grass, where he seemed 

 to be quite helpless. His stag-like antlers and 

 his hairy legs so entangled him in the long grass 

 that he was quite grateful when I gave him the 

 help of the point of my stick, to which he clung 



1 By W. H. Hudson. London: Longmans, Green and 

 Co. 8vo, pp. xvi, 344. 



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