Feb. iS, ign.] 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
275 
son-in-law, he said—and he said it in such a 
way that you couldn't possibly mistake it for 
a temperance address or a Tariff Reform 
speech if you tried—the son-in-law for him, he 
said, would have to be a man as could support 
his daughter in a position as high as, if not 
higher than she’d been accustomed to. And, 
more than that, he'd have to be a good per¬ 
former among game; he’d have to be able to 
drop as many birds as he—Sir Anthony—could, 
and if he could not only show himself his equal 
in that respect, but could fairly wipe his eye 
fairly make rings round him, Sir Anthony 
why, thpn. he'd be respected all the more. 
\Y hen Sir Anthony had got through with 
young Dunkin and had dropped what was left 
ol him off the front-door step, he hunted up 
his daughter and repeated to her as much of 
what she’d heard through the keyhole as he 
thought would be good for her. Then she re¬ 
minded him that she’d always been a kind and 
indulgent daughter to him, and, much as it hurt 
her to refuse to gratify any of his little fancies, 
he. was going a trifle too far this time, and if 
he d fully made up his mind to have a son-in- 
law that hadn’t an idea beyond the end of a 
gun barrel, then she washed her hands of the 
whole affair, and he’d have to procure the—er— 
■article without any assistance from her. After 
that she said she’d just put her night-dress into 
.bag and go over to stay with her Aunt 
Miranda at Pugsby-by-the-Pond for a week or 
two while he thought it over. So she packed 
her night-dress into two trunks and a kit-bag 
and a hat-box and a portmanteau and went to 
ber Aunt Miranda’s; and when she’d gone 
Sir Anthony was madder than ever, because he 
1 emembered that young Dunkin lived within a 
mile and a half of Pugsby-by-the-Pond, and it 
was at his sister Miranda’s that the girl had 
first met the young man. But he couldn’t do 
anything, in consekens of it being the twelfth 
m a couple of days, and all his time was taken 
up in preparations for the moor. 
Y oil see, Sir Anthony Rasper’s grouse-moor 
was next to Colonel Snapper’s, and the two 
owners hated each other worse than brothers. 
. at 1 ally, there was the keenest rivalry atween 
cm as to which made the biggest bag on the 
twelfth. For the last three years the Colonel 
had come out top dog with eleven, seventeen 
and nineteen brace more than Sir Anthony, and 
k ir Anthony had been sore. However, that 
3 r ear it. was reported that some original experi¬ 
ments in fancy burning were beginning to show 
a disastrous effect on old Snapper’s moor, while 
Sir Anthony s was simply crowded with young 
healthy birds, and he wasn't going to miss the 
chance ot knocking feathers off old Snapper 
for the want of a little attention. So while he 
was making the most of his opportunity the 
young folk were making the most of theirs 
also over at Pugsby, with the result that young 
Dunkin persuaded Sir Anthony’s daughter to 
take a trip with him in the dirigible. Accord- 
mgjy, on the morning of the twelfth, Sir 
Anthony s daughter casually explained to her 
Aunt Miranda that she was going for a little 
tesh air, and met young Dunkin by appoint- 
ment in the vicinity of the shed where he kept 
the dirigible chained up when he could per¬ 
suade her to come home. It didn’t take long 
to work the machine out, inflated as she was 
help the girl into the car, and fly with her. 
1 he first sensation of skimming through the 
air was so delightful that she said she’d like to 
go on flying like that until lunch, and young 
Dunkin, of course, promptly said that in that 
case he wished lunch was laid at the other end 
of eternity. Then she wanted to know where 
they were gomg to, and young Dunkin tried to 
tell her but it wasn’t a success. They didn’t 
know where they were going, but they went, 
cy and by the girl sort of began to think the 
country they were scooting over had a kind of 
familiar look. Then they scooted some more, 
and skimmed up over the hills, and at last the 
g;n gave a gasp, and said: “Look, George 
it s pa s grouse-moor.” 
And George looked, and it was. 
Sir Anthony Rasper said he hadn’t known ; 
ti ^ J f °r twenty years, and, what witl 
the birds that they had on the moor simpb 
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