CHAPTER IV. 

 THE CONFESSIONS OF A FANCIER. 



Early in life I developed a taste for " keeping " 

 things. I kept foreign postage stamps. I kept 

 rabbits, goats, and canaries. I kept a revolver, 

 with which I shot cats and zinc chimney-pots. 

 My father owning most of the zinc chimney-pots 

 within circuit of our shooting excursions, on 

 principle objected to our Cockney sportsmanship 

 (a companion shot with me — an apprentice of 

 my father's, an old ally and school chum of mine). 

 He thought we might find rational amusement 

 more suitable to young gentlemen than perforat- 

 ing zinc chimney-pots and frightening peaceable 

 and well-paying tenants. He did not heed the 

 perforated cats — they were not his property. 

 We sold the revolver, and bought pigeons at 

 Club Row. 



Oh the feast of feather, form, and beauty 

 displayed in that dilapidated old thoroughfare 



