76 AN OLD SPORTSMAN. 



in the mirk, heavy-footed now, I can tell you I 

 remember having heard that there was a cod's- 

 head and oyster-sauce, a small leg of mutton, 

 and game ad libitum for dinner. I keep re- 

 volving these good things in my head until I 

 have doubts on the subject of the cod's-head. 



" Uncle Joe, are we to have the cod's-head 

 to-day ?" 



Joe looks at me reproachfully. The poor 

 man himself is as famished as a hawk in a 

 a parish of sparrow-shooters, and I feel that 

 my question is little short of indecent. 



" I'm horribly hungry, Will," he says, and 

 puts on a fresh spurt. 



We put the dogs into the kitchen, to dry 

 and snooze before the hearth until a snug 

 mess is got ready for them. And oh ! the 

 luxury of dry clothes, of slippers, of a glass of 

 sound clean sherry before before that cod's- 

 head makes its welcome appearance. 



The shots are duly discussed the misses, 

 why they were missed ; the hits, how cleverly 

 they were pulled off. The cheery fire grows 

 cheerier. Hark ! a wind rises on the hill and 

 tears round the Wisp with a sharp whish but 



