12 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 



son, however, is the hero of this story, and here his 

 history begins : 



He was born in the year 1776, and being the issue of 

 sound and healthy parents, and a perfect and well-shapen 

 infant, soon struggled into what may be called life ; that 

 is to say, the "mewling and puking in the nurse's arms" 

 was, in due time, succeeded by a strong desire to get upon 

 his legs and amuse himself. In fact, although to declare 

 the end from the beginning is not within the scope of 

 human power, there was something about this boy, at 

 the end of his third year, which indicated that, one day 

 or another, in one pursuit or other, he was likely to 

 overtop the crowd. It is true the human mind is made 

 for action ; but this child was as active and restless as the 

 hyaena, and showed a desire to pry into everything within 

 his reach ; and the predominance of his taste was not long 

 in displaying itself. If he found a stick, he wanted a 

 string to tie to the end of it ; and if he found a string, 

 he wanted a stick to tie the string to. In fact, a whip 

 was his delight, but the sight of a horse transported him ; 

 and from morning to night did his little tongue ring the 

 changes of horse and whip, whip and horse, varied only 

 by an occasional notice of a favourite dog, that was 

 allowed to make its domicile in the nursery. In short, 

 as the dawn of morning generally show r s the day, it was 

 evident that Francis Raby was to be a sportsman. 



As may be imagined from their sitiiation in life, Francis 

 Raby and his brother (who was named after his father) had 

 every care taken of them in their infancy ; and, before 

 they were eight years of age, their characters were pretty 

 clearly developed. But as " one star differeth from another 

 star in glory," so did the characters of these brothers 

 vary in a very unusual degree. Andrew was always in 

 the house, and with his mother when he could be ; 

 Francis out of doors, and about the stables as soon as he 

 could break loose and steal away. Andrew delighted in 

 a book ; Francis appeared to have an antipathy to one. 

 Andrew was pale and sickly, and subject to infantine 

 diseases ; Francis was a miniature waggoner in frame and 

 constitution. In one respect, however, they assimilated. 

 Both showed indications of talent, and, in their exercises 

 with their tutor, who prepared them for Eton, "the 

 promise of a goodly day to-morrow." 



There is nothing more certain than that all things must 



