86 FARLEY, 1919 



glorious fluke if you prefer to call it so). No 

 matter; we were all hilarious as we dashed (I 

 should rather call it " puffing ") up the hill and 

 found our stag only just over the summit unable 

 to rise, and we quickly put him out of his misery, 

 and the flask was produced in frolicsome Farley 

 fashion. He was but a poor beast, but, oh, the 

 joy of anything with horns after days spent in 

 hours of fruitless search ! He was a 7-pointer, 

 with nothing of a head, and only weighed 12 stone 

 6 pounds, and we had to leave him out all night 

 as it was so late and the pony was goodness knows 

 where. But nothing mattered; success was ours, 

 and even our old legs rolled home with lightness 

 and our souls wie great content. 



Billy Smith got another small stag the next 

 day in Farley Wood a 7 -pointer, 12 stone 

 4 pounds, in good condition but nothing of a head 

 again. He tells me he could probably have got 

 another, as they galloped past quite close to him, 

 but he laudably resisted as there was nothing 

 very good, and John did not want to disturb the 

 wood more than necessary. 



The lady of the forest tells me all this is very 

 dull, and that I am getting garrulous in my old 

 age, so I must take a pull and bring this chapter 

 to a speedier termination than I had intended 

 very annoying just as I was getting into my stride. 

 The railway strike being over at long last, the 

 Parburys were enabled to get north on the 8th, 



