to his acquaintance with man-in a word, that Lady Louisa's spaniel, with ears hanging from a carriage-window, is by no means the original dog of the Caucasus'-Caucasus is a good word," chuckled Gag. "To what portion of human society the dog Marc Antony,' for that shall be the poodle's name is indebted for his superhuman talent at dominos, it is here needless to inquire; facts speak for themselves. The dog has won garlands of laurel in every city throughout the continent; having had the honour of playing before his holiness the Pope, the Emperor of Austria, the King of the French, and other imperial and royal patrons of the fine arts. Mr. Bajazet Gag, ever alive to the refined wants of his best patrons, the public, has entered into an engagement which secures the services of Marc Antony for a limited number of nights, when he will play at dominos with a distinguished professor of mathematics, who will in his own person exhibit the foolish and no less destructive effects of despair under temporary defeat. On this theme, Mr. Bajazet Gag feels that he might dwell at considerable length; but a delicacy towards the professor himself, who had in the most handsome manner quitted the hands of his surgeon for six nights only, prevents a more particular acknowledgment of his kindness. Mr. Bajazet Gag will take it upon himself to state that the extraordinary amount of judgment, the wonderful powers of calculation evinced by the dog Marc Antony, afford to the philosophic mind a most interesting inquiry, namely, whether the whole animal creation is not about to be quickened by an increasing degree of intelligence approaching that degree of perfectibility which-which- Stop, I'm getting a little out of my depth here," and Bajazet, with his eye upon "perfectibility," sat biting the end of his pen, "Never mind, we'll end with-" At this moment Slimely Duckweed entered the room. His face was flushed-he flung his hat with desperate energy upon the table— scrambled his fingers among his hair-threw himself upon the sofa, and exclaimed, "Infamous!" "What's the matter? The dog isn't dead?" cried the anxious. manager. "Dead! No, sir; he's alive and wagging; but his master"-gasped Duckweed. "What of him? Doesn't he jump at the offer. At my theatre-the most splendid” "I'll tell you, sir, if I can command my temper. I saw the miscreant -saw the dog-' "Well, go on," cried Bajazet. "I offered terms-princely terms; the fellow acceded, and I called for pen, ink, and paper, that I might write out the engagement-" Very proper. Well?" "Whilst thus employed, making the agreement as strong as possible -hooping it all round, as I may say, with iron, the vagabond dog-proprietor was called out. In ten minutes he returned, and I read the document to him for his name or mark. Well, sir, you would think that the dog was yours?" Certainly," cried Gag. "Then, sir, grieve to say it-the dog is gone !" "Gone?" exclaimed Mr. Bajazet Gag. "Gone!" echoed his man of business. August.-VOL. LXII. NO. CCXLVIII. 20 THE TWELFTH OF AUGUST IN SOUTH WALES. BY ORNITHER. THERE are moments when the mind, sated with one class of delights, transfers its affections to another, and longs impatiently in its " prisonhouse" for the desired change. Thus it was with me. I had passed the spring and early summer in town: its pleasures, manifold and intellectual as they are, had palled upon me. The soul-entrancing opera, the Hanover-square soirées, the National Gallery, even those astonishing remains of perfected art-the Elgin marbles, pregnant as they are with interest and beauty, by frequent fruition had lost their charms, and failed to move as they moved at first. No doubt this result was hastened by the season. Thick-coming dreams of the pastoral, holy remembrances of its sinless and vivid joys, with a burning desire to exchange the brick-built, artificial, densely-populated town, for the green solitudes of the country, entirely possessed me. My determination was quickly formed: an old Oxford knapsack (close-fitting, ever-ready companion through many a delightful excursion), carefully furbished up, and some necessary preparations made, I leaped eagerly upon a westward coach, bid a temporary adieu to town, and in four-and-twenty hours found myself on the romantic banks of the salmon-shoaled Usk, amid the purple, heath-clad hills of Wales -that rugged nursing-mother of the hardy, heroic Silures! Here at MC——, in the neighbourhood of Brecon,* under the hospitable roof of an indulgent and valued friend, I sojourned in full happiness during several weeks; in fact, until the calls of time rendered it desirable I should proceed on the tour I had proposed myself. The shooting-season was, however, nigh at hand; nor was I permitted to depart without partaking of its pleasures. I therefore trained myself for a sport, the love of which has with me throughout life amounted to a passion, and at the same time gratified my taste for the rural and picturesque, by discursive wanderings along the stony banks of the Usk, or the verdant shores of that splendid lake, Llangorse; by long excursions to the lofty summits of the Alt, the Van, and other mountains, to the noble waterfalls which thunder through their natural passes, or the numerous sepulchral monuments of the ancient British with which that soul-stirring country so plentifully abounds. With grouse-shooters, the 11th of August is usually a busy, sometimes an anxious day. The search for commodious quarters, for beaters familiar with the breeding-ground, and favourite haunts of the To the tourist there is no county of South Wales which affords a greater diversity of interest than Breconshire. It abounds in scenery at once combining the stern sublimity of cloud-capped mountains, with the less-exciting, but more touching charms of exuberant, stream-fed valleys. The Van (a local name for the Breconshire Beacon) is the loftiest mountain in South Wales, its elevation being, according to Bakewell, 2862 feet; and from whatever point it may be viewed, forms, with its wiry outline and forked peaks, a noble background to the prospect. Llangorse, too, is, we believe, the most extensive lake in the southern portion of the Principality, and lying embosomed among the hills with its wood-feathered island and verdant hamlet-scattered shores, will apply repay the trouble of those who may have leisure and inclination to visit it. game, inquiries into the condition and proportionate numbers of the packs, the provision for your dogs, the examination of shooting apparatus and appointments-these, mixed up with speculative hopes and fears as to the probable state of weather on the morrow, fully occupy the time. On this occasion, thanks to my comfortable position, and the solicitous attention of my friend, I had nothing irksome to attend to. Returning from a walk on the evening of this day, I found that a servant who had been despatched to Brecon for a stock of ammunition and my favourite gun (which, according to instructions, had been forwarded there by coach), had just arrived with them. To see the latter, now that it was come, I was absolutely impatient: let me fancy the kind reader present at its opening. In yonder shallow, oblong box, resting with its brass-bound corners. on the hall-table before us, a powerful and deadly engine lies concealed. It is harmless enough just now. We open the case, and lo! in trim array its exquisitely-finished, and to a sportsman, interesting contents present themselves. Here lie, in snug compartments, the crimson-feathered, highly-burnished stock, the neatly-chased locks, and barrels well wrought, and of the finest texture. A few eager seconds elapse, and the several parts are joined together, the locks put into play, their clean, independent action and musical chatter for the thousandth time. admired. I raise the gun quickly to my shoulder, bring it to the cover on some object in the window, as I might upon some unhappy bird on the morrow, and then lowering it, exclaim, full of pride in its excellence, at the same time giving the compactly-fitting heel-plate a smart stroke with my hand, "All honour to thee, Purday, thou Prince of Gun-makers!" Some there are to whom the above may appear an absurd exclamation, a ridiculous or counterfeit rhapsody. Not to such do I address it, but more directly to the genuine sportsman-one who, himself experiencing a delight in the handling and examination of a good gun, similar to that of a learned connoisseur in the inspection of a valuable antique or fine picture, will not think it extravagant in another. Familiar to him, also, is the pleasure resulting from arranging and calling over the requisites for shooting, prior to the commencement of the season: "Gun, powder-flask and shot-belt, with their necessary contents; wadding, caps, dog whip, couples, and whistle; nipple-wrench, sandwich-box, and lastly, the indispensable liquor-case." These set forth in due order, next come the peculiar habiliments in which the valued person is to be arrayed: and when all is ready, the sense of satisfaction is complete. Our dogs had, early in the evening, been forwarded to the neighbourhood of the shooting-ground, under the care of a hill-shepherd, who also served the purpose of a keeper (as in fact all shepherds do on these mountains), carrying a deputation in his pocket for the protection of his master's rights. As nothing remained to be done, and wishing to be as well fortified as possible against the fatigue of the next day, after taking a last look-out upon the night, which was clear and starlit, and promised well for the morrow, I retired to bed. The following morning I arose whilst it was yet dark; and on going down, found Green, the best of keepers, already in attendance. Al most immediately afterwards I heard my friend, on his way to the breakfast-parlour, interrogate him as follows: "Well, Green, what sort of weather shall we have to-day?" "Really, sir, it has been so unsettled of late, that it's hard to determine." "Which way floats the mist-up or down the valley? we may partly guess by that." "There is very little mist this morning, sir; and it is so lazy, that I scarcely know how to answer you; I think it drives down, if any way." "I don't much like that, but we must hope for the best. Is everything ready, Green ?" "All is waiting your pleasure, sir." "Very well; we'll be with you presently." A hasty, but nevertheless substantial breakfast made, we mounted our horses to proceed to the hills," from which we were some five miles distant. Unlike the huge cavalcades whereof, on similar former excursions, I had made a unit,* our party consisted only of my friend and self in front; the keeper, with the guns slung across his shoulders, riding next; while a servant, mounted upon a kind of huge saddlebags of stiff leather, in which were stowed the provisions, both solid and fluid, for the day, brought up the rear. Beautiful, indeed, was that morning! The pale light streamed diffusively from the east, rapidly quenching, with its superior effulgence, the sidereal fires of Heaven. On the face of the earth a universal stillness prevailed, as though Nature were waiting, in mute expectancy, the birth of the young day, ere she lift up her myriadtongued voice in one vast hymn of thanksgiving to the Everlasting Father! Our course lay through luxuriant meadows to the Usk, here a considerable stream, which we forded, startling from his night's fishingpost, as I well remember, the crooked, solitary heron; then leaving the rich pastures which skirt the river, we began to ascend the successive platforms which gradually rise from its banks into towering and majestic mountains. The scenery through which we now passed was highly picturesque, and characteristic of the season. The cool, fragrant lane, its hedges hoary with night's dew, presented ever-changing vistas to the eye. The corn-fields here waved their graceful golden treasures to the scarcely perceptible breeze; further on, the sickle had been put forth, and the sheaves stood in orderly array, bowing their heads together like so many victims propitiatory to the goddess Ceres, for the blessing of a fruitful harvest. Sometimes the road wound In August, 1833, the writer made one of a grousing-party on the Michael Church estate, in Herefordshire ;-not then what is called "an open manor." The sportsmen invited, and those who had obtained permission to shoot, actually doubled the number of birds known to be on the hills. More guns than birds consequently became the subject of many a joke that day. By dint of incessant labour, and a perfect knowledge of the ground, the writer contrived to bag two brace—the greatest number killed by one gun, while some failed to kill a single bird, and others never had a shot throughout the day. These, for the most part, smoked and drank, or played practical jokes upon each other to beguile the time, and dissipate the chagrin incident upon disappoint ment. through pine-groves, or skirted a stream-watered ravine; anon it debouched unexpectedly on some straggling cottages, their chimneys spouting forth volumes of curling smoke, white and dense from newly-kindled fuel, which showed that their inmates were thus early astir. Still we continued to ascend, the far blue horizon spreading in wider circles around us, the habitations of men becoming less frequent, until at length we fairly passed the enclosures, and entered upon a broad mountain range. Here, at a pre-appointed spot, our dogs were in waiting; we therefore dismounted, charged our guns, cast off a leash of crack pointers, and commenced the beat. Indulgent reader! Hath it ever been thy good fortune to enjoy a day's grousing? Verily, whoso hath a soul to relish the grand and exciting in Nature, will find it no trivial pastime, no common-place occurrence. Leaving restriction and its effects totally uncared for, in the first place merely to carry a gun, believe me, is no slight privilege: the sense of buoyant self-possession it gives you, the consciousness that by its means,extraordinary effects-nay, in the abstract miraculous, are to be produced that the strong bird, exulting in his admirable faculty, as he mounts proudly on the wing, now rapidly increasing his distance, can be suddenly arrested in mid career, and subjected to your pleasurethese are tacitly felt, and may not lightly be despised. Again, in pursuing this sport the very ground you tread upon is not without its beauties, its memories. Wild and barren though they be, the mountains, with the wavy curvature of their outlines, their dark-blue knolls, and torrent-washed hollows, are ever grand and soul-moving. Here the plough hath never penetrated. The stubborn glebe, and the feathered denizen who inhabits it, alike unsubdued by man, are the same now as when two thousand years ago the painted, aboriginal savage bounded swiftly over its surface in the chase, or stalked fiercely and with horrid shout in war. The pinnacle-shaped, weather-blanched rocks, pointing upwards to the cerulean sky, where, on outstretched pinions, glides the forked glead in graceful mazy circles, speak of a still remoter date. The free breath of heaven, blowing over the fresh-smelling heather, which clothes the hill-tracts with a rich crimson and greenbloomed mantle, eddies round your temples, carrying the pure elements of health upon its wings. The broad effects, too, of light and shade, the deep silence of these vast solitudes, impress the mind with a constant sense of admiration; and united with the excitement attendant upon the pursuit of game, contribute to place grouse-shooting among the most interesting of field-sports. We had advanced about half a mile, when the keeper remarked that we were now in the usual feeding-ground of a pack, and might calculate upon finding them directly. Nor was he wrong; for shortly afterwards, one of our dogs making a range diagonally to the wind, turned abruptly from his course, stopped, then drew himself confidently up to a splendid point. The keeper raises his hand, gives a slight whistle to attract the attention of the other dogs, and they instantly back. We close upon them, and they begin to draw upon the birds; their limbs quivering with excessive delight as they creep warily through the heather. This, with occasional halts to enable the dogs to make out the running game, continued for some minutes: at length another |