58 SEEKING A SABBATH DINNER. 



serious a task ; and therefore, though I know that half 

 the charm will thereby be lost, I must e'en leave it to 

 your own fertile imagination to put in the finishing 

 strokes and effective touches of the master, while I 

 barely lay down the crude outline. Allow us one 

 moment for a preliminary pull at the flask and a pinch 

 of snuff not at all adulterated; oh no! and we 

 begin at once our narrative of the big stag of Ben 

 Rhynie. 



Once upon a time there was a famous hart known to 

 frequent the fastnesses of Ben Rhynie, the head of 

 which was for a long while an object of ambition 

 among all the foresters, sportsmen and poachers who 

 shot per fas aut nefas in the neighbourhood. But he 

 seemed to bear a charmed life, not even a bullet of 

 silver, it was said, could harm him ; and he continued 

 in spite of their patience and perseverance, to baffle 

 them all. 



On one occasion, however, Rob had been out with 

 his gnn, tempted as well by the want of something to 

 do, as by a great desire for a venison steak for his next 

 day's (Sabbath) dinner. He had searched various 

 woods for roe, but without success, and was wending 

 his way homeward, his gun slung carelessly over his 

 shoulder, and " whistling to keep his courage up," 

 when, just as he was mounting a little knoll in the 

 midst of an open moor, he suddenly was aware of a 

 hart standing within a hundred yards, and staring him 

 full in the face. Instinctively he put his gun to his 

 shoulder, but as quickly withdrew it, on recollecting 

 that it was only loaded with slugs, which he knew 

 would be of little avail against such large game. Small, 

 however, as was the chance of success, there was 

 nothing else for it; so, without more waste of time, he 



