THE TWELFTH OF AUGUST. 159 



" Come now, Hope, be magnanimous : he dropped 

 his birds quick and neatly." 



By the time we had beat to the end of the 

 loch they had got, since lunch, four and a half 

 brace of grouse, three plovers, and a teal duck, 

 which was thought sufficient; but, just as we were 

 giving over, both dogs set at different parts of 

 some rushy ground. Mel had found a single bird, 

 which Ward shot; and Monk had set a covey of 

 eight birds, and, by following up, five of these 

 were killed. 



It was now well on in the afternoon, and we 

 walked home leisurely. Dick and the boy had 

 gone away after lunch with the game, &c. 



Some hours after arriving, the gong, I suspect, 

 boomed on unwilling drowsiness ; but, soon freshened 

 up, we all were down just as Dick entered with 

 a huge tureen of soup, which he put on the table 

 with proud complacency. 



" Shades of Cambaceres and Fontenelle ! " ex- 

 claimed Ward, " what is it? What a bouquet ! " 



" Did you ever hear of Meg Merrilies's soup, 

 Hope ? " said the Major. 



" No, never." 



u Then be grateful for a new pleasure, and go on." 



