File:American turf register and sporting magazine (1839) (14595098408).jpg

Identifier: americanturfregi10skin (find matches)
Title: American turf register and sporting magazine
Year: 1839 (1830s)
Authors: Skinner, J. S., ed
Subjects: Horse-racing Horses Sports
Publisher: Baltimore, Md. : J.S. Skinner
Contributing Library: University of New Hampshire Library
Digitizing Sponsor: University of New Hampshire Library

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ommonly give for aDeer six or seven guilders. In the Forests, are also, Partridges, Pheasants, andPidgeons, that fly in flocks of thousands, and sometimes 10, 20,€0 and even 40 or60. arc killed at one shot: we have here, too, a great number of several kinds ofFowl, Swan, Geese, Ducks, Widgeons, Teal, and Brant, which are taken by thou-sands upon the river, in the spring of the year, and, again, in the fall, fly away inflocks, so that in the morning and evening, a man may stand ready with his gun be-fore the house, and shoot them as they fly past. That thought is almost too much to think. Sweet is thy memory,dear Mr. Megapolensis ? If it was given to you to paint Heavenhalf so well as you adorned Earth, there could not have been an un-converted sinner in the whole valle) of the Mohawk ! We have killed wild geese in our time: and we know what it is tobring down a glorious gaggle of honkers to our stool. We have seentheir sinewy wedge splitting the wind, as they rushed to their iJlimi-
Text Appearing After Image:
_ .^tf ■ /^:^.;...i JANETTE. 433 table and unknown domains at the North, matched, married, andfierce for the indulgence of safe love, where no poaching egg-hunterknows to tread; yet half lingering, wondering, doubting, pitying, wil-ling to wait for the wooden devices, which we have anchored in theshallow feeding-grounds, as a picture-gallery of their uncles, cousins,and sweet-hearts. Hawnk! Hawnk! we have roared out, and tore our gaspingthroat, and low in our skulking boat, or close in our floating battery,have we fallen, when the music of the flying march of the anserichost thrilled upon our ear. Hawnk ! Hawnk ! They come, theytear the yielding air, with pennon fierce and strong; on clouds theyleap, from deep to deep, the vaulted air along—tear—air—strong—along—break forth my soul into a song !— They come, they tear the yielding air, with pennon fierce and strong, On clouds they leap, from deep to deep, the vaulted dome along ; Heavens light horse, in a column of attack

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