He compelled himself, therefore, to enter into conversation with Sir William Ashton, with as much appearance of indifference as he could well command.
"You will not be surprised, Sir William, that I am interested in the changes you have made for the better in this apartment.

In my father's time, after our misfortunes compelled him to live in retirement, it was little used, except by me as a play-room, when the weather would not permit me to go abroad.

In that recess was my little workshop, where I treasured the few carpenters' tools which old Caleb procured for me, and taught me how to use; there, in yonder corner, under that handsome silver sconce, I kept my fishing-rods and hunting poles, bows and arrows." "I have a young birkie," said the Lord Keeper, willing to change the tone of the conversation, "of much the same turn.

He is never happy save when he is in the field.

I wonder he is not here.