letter from an old sportsman.

dear sir,

i receaved your’s of the first last, wich i should have anser’d it sooner, only i have ad the roomatiz in my fingers, so you must pleas to excus my crampd hand.

as to my sporting reminis-cences, as you are pleasd to say, i have look’d them out in the dixenary, and kno verry well what it is. i beg leaf to say, i have forgot all my recolections, and can not bring to mind any of my old rememberances.

as for hunting, i shall never take a fence at it agen, altho i sumtims ride to cover on the old gray, wich is now be come quite wite. the last tim i went out, we dru hazelmere copses down to broxley wood; then we dru broxley wood over to fox thorp; then we dru fox thorp over to middle ford, and then we dru middle ford, in short, it was all drawing and no painting for want of a brush.

sir william chase coming to be his father’s hare, he set up a coarsing club, but being short of long dogs, and there hairs falling of, it was obleged to discourse, and is now turned into a conversasiony.

in regard to shuting, i have never dun anny thing since per

[pg 174]

cussion captiousness cum up, wich i am told they are sharper then flints. the last hare i kild was 2 long ears ago, and the last fezzant, but there’s a long tail belonging to that, wich you shall have when you cum over, as i hop you wil, with your horse’s; i have good entertainment for boath, as the french say, at my table d’ oats. the lads go out after burds now and then, but i seldum cum at the rites of there shuting—you kno

wat is hits is histery,

but what is mist is mistery.