46 THE PIGEON-FANCIER. 



another skilful manoeuvre, by which he adroitly 

 turned the wayward tendencies of his son. We 

 were playing a round game at cards at an even- 

 ing party. I enjoyed the game — cards were 

 new to me. I never saw them at home — they 

 savoured too much of the world, the flesh, and 

 the devil. When the game was finished my 

 father rose and said it was time to go home. 

 " I'll stay a little longer," I replied, " and play 

 another game." "You had better come now," 

 he said ; " if you want to play cards, play with 

 me at home." We left together. I was per- 

 fectly good-humoured : the suggestion pleased 

 me. My father bought a pack of cards and 

 taught me to play, and many and many a merry 

 winter's night we two spent with the cribbage- 

 board between us, and my mother looking on. 

 The passion for cards soon abated ; I played in 

 good company, and had plenty of fun, without 

 the accursed adjuncts of drinking and gambling. 

 With my establishment in full swing another 

 ambition burned in my breast — I must have a 

 pair of shortfaced birds. So, together with my 

 friend, I visited an old Fancier resident at Bow ; 

 we each purchased of him a pair of almond-bred 

 birds. Chapman strain. My poor plebeian Bald- 

 heads doubtless felt degraded by this intro- 



