58 AN OLD SPORTSMAN. 



was put on, and then Uncle Joe triumphed. I 

 verily believe that Francatelli was a fool to him 

 at sauces for teal, for woodcock, or for plover. 

 Father Brien, the priest of the parish, was a 

 frequent guest at our table ; and his reverence 

 (who could bring down his brace right and 

 left as he walked across the moor to his little 

 chapel on week days) smacked his lips, I pro- 

 mise you, when the hot plates were laid on for 

 the birds. He and Uncle Joe would com- 

 pare notes on the various beats of the district, 

 and strike out routes according to the relative 

 weight of the bags that had been made. 



Between my uncle and myself there was the 

 strongest and most familiar intimacy that I 

 think ever existed between two persons in a 

 similar relation of life. The fact is, that Joe, 

 from constantly living in the country, and 

 occupying himself solely with fishing and 

 shooting, or coursing, was as simple in the 

 ways of the world as a child ; while I, save for 

 the periods of my vacations, had to subsist in 

 city fashion. Joe, in truth, regarded me as 

 the older and more experienced of the two. I 

 always looked forward to my visits to him for 



