When We All Met At The End Of The Day, The
Bag Of The Five Guns Was Forty-Five Wild Boars.
The biggest
- and he was a monster - fell to the rifle of the Prince, as
was of course intended.
The old man took me home in his carriage. It was a beautiful
drive. One's idea of an English park - even such a park as
Windsor's - dwindled into that of a pleasure ground, when
compared with the boundless territory we drove through. To
be sure, it was no more a park than is the New Forest; but it
had all the character of the best English scenery - miles of
fine turf, dotted with clumps of splendid trees, and gigantic
oaks standing alone in their majesty. Now and then a herd of
red deer were startled in some sequestered glade; but no
cattle, no sheep, no sign of domestic care. Struck with the
charm of this primeval wilderness, I made some remark about
the richness of the pasture, and wondered there were no sheep
to be seen. 'There,' said the old man, with a touch of
pride, as he pointed to the blue range of the Carpathians;
'that is my farm. I will tell you. All the celebrities of
the day who were interested in farming used to meet at
Holkham for what was called the sheep-shearing. I once told
your father I had more shepherds on my farm than there were
sheep on his.'
CHAPTER XIV
IT WAS with a sorry heart that I bade farewell to my Vienna
friends, my musical comrades, the Legation hospitalities, and
my faithful little Israelite.
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