with a yell! I had been bitten by an adder, that was all! Now, was
_that_ my fault? HUGH picked up the rifle, bowled over the stag, and
then, with some consideration, applied ammonia to my finger, and made
me swallow all the whiskey we had.

It was a long business, and Dr. MACTAVISH, who was brought from a
hamlet about thirty miles away, nearly gave me up. My arm was about
three feet in circumference, and I was very ill indeed. I have not
tried Deer-stalking again; and, as I said, I wish the British Tourist
joy of his Access to Mountains.

* * * * *

EARLY SPRING.

[Illustration]

Once more the North-east wind
Chills all anew,
And tips the redden'd nose
With colder blue;
Makes blackbirds hoarse as crows,
And poets too.

The town with nipping blasts
How wildly blown;
Around my hapless head
Loose tiles are thrown,
Slates, chimney-pots, and lead
Of weight unknown.

_My_ tile and chimney-pot
Flies through the air.
My eyes are full of dust,
My head is bare,
A state of things that must
Soon make me swear!

When thus in early Spring
My joys are few,
I'll warm myself at home
With "Mountain Dew,"
Or fly to Nice, or Rome,
Or Timbuctoo.

* * * * *

[Illustration: A STUDIED INSULT.

_Box-Office Keeper at the Imperial Music-Hall_ (_to Farmer Murphy, who
is in Town for the Islington Horse Show_). "BOX OR TWO STALLS, SIR?"

_Murphy_. "WHAT THE DEV'L D'YE MANE? D'YE TAKE ME AN' THE MISSUS FOR A
PAIR O' PROIZE 'OSSES? OI'LL HAVE TWO SATES IN THE DHRESS CIRCLE, AND
LET 'EM BE AS DHRESSY AS POSSIBLE, MOIND!"]

* * * * *

A BIRD OF PREY.

The Laureate, seeking Love's last law,
Finds "Nature red in tooth and claw
With ravin"; fierce and ruthless.
But Woman? Bard who so should sing
Of her, the sweet soft-bosomed thing,
Would he tabooed as truthless.

Yet what is this she-creature, plumed
And poised in air? Iris-illumed,
She gleams, in borrowed glory,
A portent of modernity,
Out-marvelling strangest phantasy
That chequered classic story.

Fair-locked and winged. So HESIOD drew
The legendary Harpy crew,
The "Spoilers" of old fable;
Maidens, yet monsters, woman-faced,
With iron hearts that had disgraced
The slaughterer of ABEL.

Chimaera dire! The Sirens three,
Ulysses shunned were such