think it was to go to farmer Read's off-hand barn, after some snipes they had hidden there."

Squire "Oh! nonsense, nonsense, keeper! Don't bother me with such ridiculous reports."

Keeper: "I beg pardon, sir. I don't wish to tell you anything but what I believe to be true; but I'll tell ye, sir, what I see myself this very morning: I see a lot o' wings, and legs, and heads, and tails, and feathers o' snipes all over the barn; and I knows there's ne'er a rat can catch a live snipe."

Squire "Well, but I do not see the motive of those gentlemen in putting snipes in the barn. True, I asked them to bring their game to the hall; but I always tell my friends to take away what they please."

Keeper: "Very true, sir. But as I understood these gentlemen were strangers to you, I thought perhaps they might have misunderstood your request; and fearing they might not get any birds from the hall, made sure of 'em by leaving a lot in the barn."

Squire "Ha ha ha! Well, keeper, thou reasonest well! Ha ha ha! ha! And after all their pains, the rats spoilt their breakfast. Ha ha! ba! ha! But were either of these gentlemen seen to go to the barn?”

Keeper: "They were seen coming away, sir, at about three o'clock in the afternoon; and when I joined them about four o'clock, they said they had been shooting a good deal of ammunition away to no purpose; but if you'll excuse my saying so, sir, I believe that was a falsehood; for they never wasted a grain whilst I walked with them, nor missed a single shot."

Squire "Indeed, keeper! They were good shots then?"

Keeper: "I tell ye, sir, them's wonders! I never see such shootin' before in all my born days. It really was a playzure to walk with 'em, and see first the Major, then the Captain bring 'em down, certain death every time."

Squire: "And about how many did you see them kill?”

Keeper: "About four couple each, sir, in an hour's shooting; and when they emptied their pockets into the maund, they had but sixteen couple altogether."

Squire: "And a very fair day's shooting, too."

Keeper: "So it is, sir, for an ordinary shot; but for such gentlemen as them, after all the noise they made on the moor, I believe they bagged more than twice as many."

Squire: "Well, let them go. I did not know they were po!hunters. At any rate they appear to have been most skilful sportsmen, and I respect them if only for that trait. You say they were not hurt at all by the accident?"

Keeper: "Not at all, sir."

Squire: "And the rats robbed them of their treasure? and they had to walk all the way to the town?"

Keeper: "Yes, sir.

Squire: "Ha! ha ha! ha! I hope they will be generous enough to pay the innkeeper for damages to the horse and chaise." Keeper: "Hope they will, sir." (Exit keeper.)

Not many days after the events recorded, a gentleman, dressed in

quiet business-like costume, walked into a merchant's office in Fenchurch-street, London, and inquired for Mr. Cole.

"Mr. Cole, jun., is in, sir," said one of the several clerks. "It is Mr. Cole, jun., I wish to see," was the reply.

"Will you favour me with your name, sir ?" said the clerk. "McLeod," said the speaker.

"Well, Major! my dear fellow, how are you this morning?" said Mr. Cole, jun., as McLeod entered the office.

"Hearty as a buck, my brave boy. How are you, Captain, eh?" was the reply.

"What's your mission this morning, Major, eh? Something droll I see by your phiz."

"Read that, Captain," said the Major, handing his friend the morn ing paper, "and tell me if the cap fits."

The Captain then read aloud as follows:

"NARROW ESCAPE OF TWO DISTINGUISHED OFFICERS.-On Wednesday last, as Major McDougal and Captain Fitzhardinge were returning home in their dog-cart from a pheasant-shooting party at Hall, in Essex, their horse became unmanageable, and dashed into a ditch, throwing both gentlemen with considerable violence over the hedge into the next field; but fortunately without serious injury to either. The dog-cart was literally smashed to atoms, and the gallant Major and his comrade had no other alternative than to mount the horse, one behind the other, in exceedingly grotesque style, and thus rode into the town of at an early hour

next morning."

"Ha ha ha! ha!" roared the Captain. "Well, that's near enough for the public. Ha! ha! ha!"

"Quite near enough for Mr. Cole and Mr. McLeod-eh?" said the Major, with glee.

"I hope you enjoyed your snipes at breakfast this morning, Major," said the Captain.

"Not so much as I do this paragraph in the paper," said the Major.

"Have you set your rat-trap yet?" inquired the Captain.

"Have you picked up your legs and wings?" said the Major, in reply.

"No," replied the Captain; "nor have I fired the barn."

Such was the conversation on the occasion alluded to, in the private office of one of the richest mercantile firms in London. The reader will already have detected that Captain Fitzhardinge was no other than plain Mr. Cole, jun., and that Major McDougal was no other than plain Mr. McLeod, son of a wealthy stockbroker in London. Before taking leave of these impudent adventurers, it is due to them to say, that they sent the innkeeper a cheque for £10 to pay for repairing the damaged chaise. It is believed the Squire never discovered the full extent of the imposition practised upon him, but always supposed his guests were really the military personages they represented.

KNAPSACK WANDERINGS IN MERRIE ENGLAND,

BY LINTON.

No. I.-FIELD SPORTS IN THE WEST.

The London season over, portmanteaus are packed, guns encased, high-lows pulled on, metropolitan humbug forgotten, and human nature, beginning to realize itself, takes wing, like the swallows, by hundreds of thousands, and bolt across the water.

So is it, though in far less proportion, from the rural districts. While the minority who have the means, and who have met "appȧrently," in Old England, with pleasure in the van, refresh themselves at the watering-places; that is, they go to them and remain at them; bathe, eat shell-fish, perambulate the shores, get up early, and go to bed early, and know as little about the neighbourhood of their temporary location as I do of Nena Sahib, save that he is an unmitigated brute in the biped sense of the word.

The tens of thousands, however, consisting of all classes, from Belgravia to Whitechapel, with money in their pockets, all considering themselves, when once across the water, the aristocracy of England (and why not, if it so pleases them? for no fool but can discriminate), proceed by railway, and steam, swift as the arrow, north, east, west, and south: some on mere sight-seeing pleasure; others for sport. In fact, wherever the foot of man has left its print, that of an Englishman may be found. Yet 'tis strange, passing strange, that ninety-nine out of a hundred of this wandering tribe know little or nothing of their fatherland, and care to know no more.

Nevertheless, I am bold enough to assert that, although splendid and romantic is the scenery to be found beyond the white cliffs of "perfide Albion," and, at times, most exciting the sports; exquisite as are the lakes and snow-clad mountains of Switzerland, beautiful as are the vales of Switzerland, wood-clad as the provinces, and rugged as the tierras of Spain; dear old England! if English eyes will deign to look on them, has pictures as bright, as sparkling, as soft, and as hearttouching as any that can be looked on beyond the boundaries of our sea-girt island.

Aye; and sport-if not possibly so grand, so savage, and so exciting-enough, and more than enough, to satisfy many and many a first-rate sportsman,

So, learned gentlemen of the Temple, the long vacation being at hand (we will consider it that period), sport your oaks till the chrysanthemums bloom again, as have they bloomed this year, brilliant and pleasing to the eye of the multitude; give your poor clerks permission to go a-fishing where Izaak Walton fished, if they so will it; or fowling beyond Battersea, or boating on Father Thames; and do you put by your parchments and proud looks; buckle on your knapsacks, eat your dinners elsewhere but in the hall, and come forth to visit

the charms of nature and partake of the charms of sport, as God made you, not as the cares of other men, possibly cause you to be at times nolens colens.

I, Timothy Linton, could swear, were I ordered to the bar of the House of Commons, that, without your wigs, there are few better fellows or better sportsmen, and I can put my hand on a few of you, good men and true, who can ride over the moors of the west like Will-o'-the Wisp. So, for the nonce, I say, put on loose habits—pardon me, easy attire,-and come with me Westward.

And you, gentlemen of the Foreign Office and Colonial Office, Treasury, and suchlike, given to polished boots, kid gloves, diplomatic converse, and a wee bit of "Ah! how far superior I am to Tom Jones and Bill Brown!" ask for a couple of months' leave, forget that you are aught else than excellent fellows, thorough-bred gentlemen, and, not seldom, first-rate sportsmer. £90 per annum and eight hours a day, copying dispatches wasting sealing-wax and red-tape, is, I admit, enough and more than enough, to make a man fastidious, both in his dress and in his manner; but it takes even more than this to obliterate heart-feelings and early pursuits. So, instead of going to Paris or Vienna, or Geneva, to spend money on peccadillos and idle words, on fair women in charming hats and feathers, and neat bottines, consider it August, and do come with the Templer, young Jorrocks, and me, your leader-and I very much question, as we sit on a sunny bank, looking on the wide expanse of the Bristol Channel, and the Welsh mountains beyond, with our pipes in our mouths, and good sporting fellowship in our hearts, watching the tufters as they draw Cloutsham wood for a noble wild red-deer; I question, I say, whether tape and parchment, and wax, and diplomacy, and rudeness-no, not rudeness, sportsmen cannot be rude-worldly discretion; no, not worldly discretion, but ill-judged or misunderstood dignity, is not utterly erased from your minds, and that I do not find you almost the most amiable companions and first-rate sportsmen in the field.

The time is August, the latter end; no season for hunting, you will say. Pardon me; you are in error. On Exmoor-beautiful Exmoor! I believe the only portions of her Majesty's English dominions where the red deer is still roused from their native lair-you may enjoy no end of sports. Hunting; not staghunting, but wild red-deer hunting, and such hunting, combined with splendid scenery, fine autumn weather; fishing, hospitality, and good companionship as it would be difficult to find elsewhere. And ere I say a word more on the subject, I must express my astonishment that so very many good and ardent sportsmen who have horses, and who do not possess grouse moors or yachts, with time and money in hand, should never visit a locale replete with sporting pleasures to which may be added innumerable other enjoyments. Moreover the regular fox-hunting season has not arrived, and a few gallops over Exmoor is about the best training-ground I know of, to get horses into condition, whether for Melton or any other hunting country in England.

Now, concluding you have made up your minds to verify my words; take a journey of a few hours by Great Western morning express train, either to Bridgewater or Taunton; you will find at

either of these places a well-appointed coach which proceeds to Lynmouth and Linton. The drive from either place is charming, through some of the finest scenery in England. Arrived at Lynmouth, I question if you will not pronounce the scene equal to many parts of Switzerland; certainly far, far superior to nine-tenths of the dull, uninteresting localities which are thronged by the English, in France and elsewhere, during the vacation: the hotels, beautifully situated, are replete with comfort, and very moderate; excellent accommodation for horses, and altogether most desirable; lodgings are also abundant and if you have wife or daughters who share in your sporting tastes, or who require fine bracing air for the renewal of health after a London season, there are few doctors who can prescribe such air as that on Exmoor; and the neighbourhood abounds in lovely and interesting rides. Moreover, do not fancy you are leaving the comforts of life, if so you desire them; even amid the romantic wilds of Exmoor far from it. Your newspaper will reach you the same evening it is printed in London; consequently your letters daily. Moreover, there is a steamer steering twice during the week to Bristol, as also to Wales; and a regular conveyance to Barnstable and Bideford, where you meet the train.

I have mentioned these facts merely that I may not scare away those who might perchance imagine that the wild moors of Exmoor, and the Alpine scenery of its glens, are beyond the limits of civili

zation.

(To be continued).

A SPORTING TOUR.

BY LORD WILLIAM LENNOX.

CHAPTER IV.

Ashford: change here for Hastings. "We want no change, and, least of all, such change as you would give us "-Hastings and St. Leonards-Lodging housesMrs. Mouser-The new hotel-Reform your tavern bills-The Castle: as it was; as it is-Gipsy Fête-Irish anecdote-Pyrotechnic displays.

After a brief sojourn at Kingsgate, we proceeded, via Hastings, to Goodwood; but we must pause on our journey, to indulge in an Englishman's privilege that of grumbling at the arrangements of the South Eastern Railway; for, between Margate and Hastings, we changed luggage and carriage twice; once at Ramsgate, and again at Ashford. The talented authoress of "Unprotected Females in Norway" would, we opine, have been put out at the latter place, despite of her patience aud good humour, especially if it happened to pelt with rain, as it did upon the occasion I refer to. But to begin with the first annoyance. Within a quarter-of-an-hour of settling yourself comfortably at Margate, the stentorian voice of a porter, or the squeaking notes of an urchin,