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artful doubles he has made in some weedy, thorn-covered ditch, some furzy meadow, or tangled brake, to baffle the dogs, and throw the shooter out of distance. He is also, we believe, the swiftest bird that flies, of the varieties protected by law, so that great steadiness, quickness, and certainty of aim are required to bring him to the bag.

At ten we overhauled our game-nets, which were well filled, and sent their contents to "the Manor," with directions to forward a brace of hares and four of partridges, to the fair owner of the property, and a leash of birds, with our compliments, to the rectory; after which, we both partook of a sandwich, and a small quantity of weak brandy-andwater; then rose from the shady bank where we had sat, and renewed the beat.

Almost directly, one of our dogs, making a range across a field of seed-clover, where we expected to find birds, suddenly drew himself up in a most extraordinary manner. He had evidently overrun his game, and was afraid of springing it. He stood with head erect, and weight thrown back on his haunches, in a striking, and one might think, a painful posture. Walking up to him, we found the game showed no disposition to move. Struck with this unusually magnificent spectacle, we exclaimed,

"How strong, how wonderful is Nature!"

"True," returned the captain; "for it can be nothing less than Nature that acts in this way. Education may teach a dog to pause when he arrives within a given distance of his game; but it can never produce such an intense physical orgasm as this. See how his eye gloats with ecstasy, and his nostril gapes-if I may so use the word. He is rigid, too, and motionless, as are, in reality, the marble dogs of Meleager."

Urging him gently forward with our knee, he began to draw and the game to run. It soon became evident, from the many rings and windings the dogs made, that they had a landrail before them. At length the bird, finding all his efforts to mislead them fruitless, and that they pressed hard upon him, reluctantly got up, and was killed. The flight of the landrail is slow, flickering, and feeble, and it is really most strange that a bird of such limited strength of wing should be able to pass the channel in its southward migration, as it is known to do. So much does this bird depend on its legs in escape from danger, and such is its aversion to flying, that, when forced to rise, we have frequently seen it, after being more than once shot at, drop again in the same field, though not a pellet had touched it. Moreover, it is a cow

ardly bird, that the slightest blow will bring down.

The day proved overpoweringly hot; but we were both of us too zealous sportsmen to remit our exertions through that cause. On we went, through heavy potato-grounds, stubbles, pastures, and cool green turnip-fields; and many were the coveys we raised, scattered, and thinned in our progress.

It was now high noon. The blazing chariot of the sun passing the meridian had gathered huge trains of clouds that moderated his fervour for this nether world; and, at the same time, produced the grandest effects imaginable, by the breadths of shadow they cast on the landscape beneath them. Those who breakfast at four in the morning need an early dinner. For our part, wishing to pursue the sport as long as possible, and, as our accustomed dinner-hour would trespass upon a

valuable part of the day for shooting; while at noon (when birds are stationary and afford little or no amusement) that meal might be agreeably made, we bent our steps towards the cool, leafy recess, hard by a chirping limpid brook, where we had directed our cloth to be spread.

In our sweltering, jaded condition, mere shade and rest were absolute luxuries; delicious, too, were the choice cold viands laid before us; most refreshing, the icy porter that we quaffed.

But who is this venerable and cheerful-looking man, clad in suit of sober black, that comes up the brook-side to visit us? It is the Rector; worthiest of old men! Doubtless he comes to thank us personally for the birds we sent him, and perhaps to invite us, as usual, to dine with him to-morrow.

"Hic corylis mixtas inter consedimus ulmos,'" says he, looking round with a smile, as he entered our shady nook.

"Welcome, my excellent friend," cried the captain, seizing his willing hand, and cordially shaking it, "welcome, with your apposite quotation from beloved Maro."

"A most delectable spot, upon my word!" exclaimed the rector, resuming his pleasantry, unmindful of the captain's salute. "Here we have a green brook-side, trees, and dense hazel-bushes, backed by a hanging orchard, with its golden treasures. A classical retreat! No doubt haunted still in the moonlight by piping Fauns, Naiads from the stream, and dancing Dryads."

Sitting down, after returning our respective greetings, he explained to us the purpose of his visit, which was precisely what we had anticipated; then gave us quaint and amusing narratives of the various difficulties he, a nervous old man, had encountered in his endeavours to find us; though he had been, as he thought, pretty clearly instructed on this point, at "the Manor." He stayed with us the whole time we remained, nor did he refuse one glass of the fragrant milk-punch we indulged in after dinner.

We had not long recommenced beating, when an incident occurred, which, as it is curious, and the experience of many years shooting has not afforded the like, we shall be at the pains of relating.

One of our markers came in to inform us that there were several birds calling in a stubble below, named " the four acres." Although partridge seldom lie well when thus occupied, as the place was near, we were willing to try them; so we turned that way. Now the said field skirted the base of the little hill we were then on, and was divided by a low hedge from a narrow strip of green aftermath, through the bottom of which a small brook pursued its devious secret course, among alderbushes, ash, and poplar trees. On the other side of a similar reach

of pasture, beyond the stream, there rose a majestic wood, which stretched away to the top of the opposite hill.

On nearing the upper fence of the stubble field, some turnip-hoers who were at work told us that by peeping cautiously over it we might see the birds on the ground, as they had seen them when last at the headland. We were curious enough to do this; for so closely do partridge lie, and so warily creep before dogs, that it is rarely indeed the sportsman sees them in this manner; however, when he does, he cannot have a more interesting sight of the kind, as the bird's walk is proud and graceful, very much like that of Guinea-fowl. Accordingly,

on looking over the hedge, we saw four partridges at a distance of about two hundred yards. Three of them were walking carelessly about, feeding; the fourth, with outstretched neck, was calling vociferously, making also short but rapid runs between each strain of the call. We had not long watched them when suddenly one of them gave a sharp note of terror or warning, on which they all instantly crouched so close, as to be no longer visible. Glancing upwards we descried a hawkprobably from the neighbouring wood-hovering in the blue lift above. Here indeed was sufficient explanation of this alarm. In a brief while three of the birds raised themselves timidly, and ran into the hedge for shelter. But the doomed one remained; nor did he make any attempt to escape; over him the hawk balanced himself with minatory trembling pinions; and dropped closer and closer, until within about twenty feet of the ground, where he paused a long time, as though to terrify his prey out of all power to escape. At length, plumb-like down he stooped; and ere the shout we now raised to scare him could be heard, the bird's death-stroke had been given.

After witnessing this feat, we clambered hastily over the fence, and ran towards the spot. But the hawk was not easily to be balked of his quarry. We had not reached gun-shot distance, when, to the surprise of us all, he rose slowly and heavily with the bird in his talons, and flying near the ground, barely cleared the hedge below, then crossed the strip of aftermath, and disappeared with his prey among the trees by the brook.

"You'll find him again, sir, if you try," said one of the markers, "he's dropped within a dozen yards of yonder pollard ash, on the upper side.'

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Giving our dogs into the charge of an attendant, lest they should defeat our object, we walked down to the brook, and stealthily entered its almost waterless channel, about a hundred yards below where the hawk had dropped. Creeping cautiously round a short curve of the stream, we espied him on a large flat fragment of mossy rock, busily engaged on the bird; his wings expanded, and playing like fans about his head; as is the case with birds of prey when feeding. It was rather a long distance to shoot; but what could be done? If we advanced another yard, he would detect us and escape; so we relied on our gun, and in a single instant the feathered murderer and his victim lay together in death.

The partridge, which we found slightly mangled at the base of the neck, was a young one of average size, and the hawk proved to be a large female sparrow-hawk-the most rapacious and daring of that

tribe of birds.

Our shadows were lengthening rapidly on the yellow grass; the unyoked oxen, followed by the singing ploughman, were plodding lazily home from their labour; the partridge was calling loudly in every direction, and would not lie, when we relinquished sport (intending to renew it on the morrow); and returned, weary, but satisfied with the day's pleasure, to "the Manor."

Not long had the starry huntsman and his fire-dogs set their nightly chase in the sky, ere our head was on the pillow; and sound, and sweet, and refreshing are the slumbers of the tired sportsman.

Bootes.

PHINEAS QUIDDY; OR, SHEER INDUSTRY.

BY JOHN POOLE, ESQ.

AUTHOR OF "PAUL PRY," &c.

CHAP. XXXVIII.

OUR HERO, ENCOURAGED BY A FRIEND AT COURT, PERSISTS IN BEING DESPERATELY IN LOVE-A MYSTERIOUS ANNOUNCEMENT-“THOUGH A LODGING-HOUSE-KEEPER SHE HAS A HEART:" QUOTATION FROM A SENTIMENTAL COMEDY-A CALAMITOUS EVENT 66 HONESTLY AND CANDIDLY" RECORDED.

"COME back?" exclaimed Quiddy; "I'm uncommon happy. And pray, my dear, good lady, when did Miss St. Egremont return?" "She has been in town nearly a month," replied Mrs. Fleecer. "She returned about a week after you went to Margate."

"I will not come down," said Miss St. Egremont to Mrs. Fleecer. "You may entertain your visiter yourself."

"But he is so very anxious to see you," said Fleecer, "and he'll think your refusal so very odd."

"What care I either for his thoughts or his anxieties?" said Honoria. "Then what shall I say to him, Norey?"

"You may tell him the truth: I will not see him either now or at any future time."

"That girl is a perfect non compos-when he's ready, as he says, to pop the question at once!" muttered Mrs. Fleecer, as she descended the stairs.

"Miss S. sends her very best compliments," said Mrs. Fleecer to Quiddy "she hopes you'll pardon her for not coming down this evening, as she has a dreadful headach."

"I am uncommon sorry," said Quiddy; and he was uncommon sorry-at losing this opportunity of pressing his suit with a lady whose property was "not secured for her in the hands of trustees," but "every shilling of which was entirely at her own disposal."

"I know my sex, generally, Q.," continued Mrs. Fleecer; "no woman is in a hurry to give up her independence; and I know her as well as I know myself. If ever she should marry she'll marry the man of her heart, though he hadn't enough to buy the wedding-ring with."

This, like the half-hour's conversation that had preceded it, passed in whispers.

"And there's the danger," said Quiddy: "she may be snapped up by some adventurer who thinks of nothing but her fortune, and who might squander it away in a twelvemonth. But I, my good lady, with my wealth, and all made by sheer industry-"

"Ah! there!" said Fleecer: "knowing her proud spirit as I do, your wealth is more against you than any thing else could be. If, on the contrary, you were not so monstrous rich, and she liked you

But, as I've often told you, all this is idle talk, considering that, as yet, she is scarcely acquainted with you."

"Scarcely acquainted with me, ma'am ! Lord bless you! P. Q. is easily known. There's no guile, no deceit about me. You may see into my 'art at once."

And, leaving the important noun unsupplied with its dropt aspirate, this was particularly true.

"I saw into it from the first," said Mrs. Fleecer.

"Oh! ma'am, you flatter."

"But that's Miss St. Egremont's bell, so I must leave you.

How

ever, come again soon- Faint heart never won fair lady ;' and, remember you have a friend at court. There's the bell again, so good

evening, Q., good evening."

"Good evening, my dear good lady," said Quiddy; "nil despe

rado."

"What's the matter with you?" said Honoria to Mrs. Fleecer.

Let our promised seven-league-boots style of narrative still be borne in mind. Between our hero's "nil desperado" and the present question intervened nearly two months: these we have passed over at a stride. We might have related all that had occurred at the several visits which Quiddy had made in Surrey-street; recorded all his expressions of sorrow and regret at Miss St. Egremont's absence upon every such occasion; and reported Fleecer's various and ingenious excuses and subterfuges to account for it. The young lady had still resolutely refused to see him; the elder one had nearly come to her wit's end for pretexts to keep him on: and this task had been daily increasing in difficulty, inasmuch as Quiddy, wearied by disappointment upon disappointment, had begun to think of treating the pursuit of the great heiress as one would treat an impracticable riddle-that is to say, by "giving it up." We might also have stated at full length all the little schemes and plans imagined by Honoria for living upon her small income like a lady; all her friend's arguments to prove that they were every one unfeasible; and how many times a-day the latter had repeated that the only mode in the universal world, by which her laudable desire of living like a lady could be accomplished, was, by her becoming Mrs. Quiddy, which she might be on any day of the week if (as Mrs. Fleecer eloquently expressed it)" if, Norey, you were not as obstinate as the parish-pump in a hard frost. Instead of all that, we,

for reasons of our own, jump to the question which was put by Honoria to her friend as they were sitting at breakfast one morning, nearly three months after the return of the former from Starveleigh Cottage.

"There is something the matter with you, I'm sure," said Honoria: "you have been crying-why, you are crying now."

66

Nothing, dear, indeed it's nothing," replied Fleecer. "I did not sleep very well, that's all."

"Then, pray let me have no more of it, Fleecer. I had enough of that at Mrs. Woefield's to last me my life. Consider-such a rainy season as I lived through! a set-in shower of tears for three months! But what can be the reason the newspaper is not come this morning?"

"As I told you, before, dear, I suppose the boy has forgot to bring

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