AN UNLUCKY DAY. 143 



" He comes ! Be still, ye children ! " 



The children all keep close, 

 And still as mice, and wonder 



What makes him so morose. 

 The old man cleaned his rifle, 



Then shoved it as it lay ; 

 Lolled in the chimney corner, 



And drove his dog away. 



'T is very late already ; 



At last he falls asleep, 

 When on tiptoe the youngest 



Into the room does creep, 

 And whispers to the others, 



" I 've found it out, good luck ! 

 'T is not about old Dobbin, 



He has missed a chamois buck /" 



