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Book, page 131 / 300 said the count. Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning with, 'All that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen is so trifling--' but at this instant our hero's attention was distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this title of a chapter: 'Burial-place of the Nugents.' 'Pray now, sir,' said Captain Williamson, 'if I don't interrupt you, as you are such a famous fox-hunter, maybe, you may be a fisherman too; and now in Ireland do you, MR.--' A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood behind him, stopped the captain short, as he pronounced the word MR. Like all awkward people, he turned directly to ask, by his looks, what was the matter? The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before him, determined to have the fishing to himself, and went on with-- 'Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fishing too, as well as hunting?' The count bowed: 'I do not presume to say that, sir.' 'But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways? Give me leave;' taking the whip from Williamson's reluctant hand, 'this ways, laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion next to your hook, and the point next to your shank, this wise, and that wise; and then, sir,--count, you take the hackle of a cock's neck----' 'A plover's topping's better,' said Williamson. 'And work your gold and silver thread,' pursued Benson, 'up to your wings, and when your head's made, you fasten all.' 'But you never showed how your head's made,' interrupted
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