CHAPTER I Triumphant returning at night with the spoil,Like Bachanals, shouting and gay:How sweet with a bottle and song to refresh,And lose the fatigues of the day.With sport, wit, and wine, fickle fortune defy,Dull 'wisdom all happiness sours;Since Life is no more than a passage at best,Let's strew the way over with flowers. "THEY order these things better in London," replied the Hon. Tom Dashall, to an old weather-beaten sportsman, who would... more...