See how the grayling sparkle! There's a pike! 'Tain't my fault, squire, so help me--Don't swear, now, squire; old men and dying maun't swear, squire.

How steady the river runs down?
Lower and slower--lower and slower: now it's quite still--still--still--' His voice sank away--he was dead! No! once more the light flashed up in the socket.

He sprang upright in the bed, and held out his withered paw with a kind of wild majesty, as he shouted,-- 'There ain't such a head of hares on any manor in the county.

And them's the last words of Harry Verney!' He fell back--shuddered--a rattle in his throat--another--and all was over..