Dartmoor. 159 



then I rather like to hear the wind howl 

 (I cannot say I hke to feel its power though, 

 as I much prefer a wet day to a windy one) 

 when, after the fatigues of a long day, I sit 

 comfortably over the fire of an evening, just 

 tired and sleepy enough to know I shall 

 get to sleep directly I choose to go to bed. 

 Altogether I always was, and always am, 

 delighted with the grand, wild old moor. 



Then as the days get longer with the new 

 year, and February begins at times to show 

 signs of the coming spring, how delightful is a 

 day's trout-fishing in one of the many small 

 streams which have their rise in the moor. 

 I had a nice little stream within a hundred 

 yards of my cottage door, where I could 

 always get a few fish for breakfast. I hardly 

 like to think of them, they are simply de- 

 licious ; and with the keen appetite which I 

 always had when at my far-off and quiet 

 bachelor quarters, and with some home-baked 

 bread, obtained through the kindness of a 

 moor farmer about a mile off, and some pure 

 fresh butter (without the slightest or most 

 remote taint or suspicion of butterine or 

 olearine, or any other such frightful abomin- 



