DEDICATION. vii 



is squaring away at his mother, and bawling out 

 at the top of his voice, " I'm a Young Man 

 from the Country/' and " Slap Bang." 



A fair-headed little thing is crawling along 

 the floor, their baby sister. I can hardly realise 

 I am a " Benedict/' and that these little brats 

 are mine yet so it is, they are papa's pets (by 

 George ! there's the pet of all arrived, the baby 

 boy ; I'd forgotten him). 



Now one wants to be told why grandmama 

 died, and where she is gone to. " If grandpapa 

 will burn the bits of the nasty gun that he 

 keeps in his dressing-room that blew poor papa's 

 fingers off." 



Oh, Time, "Old Father Time," how you 

 change ! but change as you will ; till death 

 claims me, I can never forget my childish days, 

 my boyhood's happy hours, my youthful dreams, 

 or manhood's trials good or bad, happy or un- 

 happy, sad or gay, I remember all. 



I am not much given to the cacoethes scri- 

 bendi, but I trust this little volume may be 

 useful, and amuse those who read it. A few 

 sketches and experiences of a man who has 

 devoted a life to sporting in all its wild and 



