"Sportsman" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... was heard, and a fine buck darted into the path a short distance ahead of him. The appearance of the animal was sudden, and his flight inconceivably rapid; but the traveller appeared to be too keen a sportsman to be disconcerted by either. As it came first into view he raised the fowling-piece to his shoulder and, with a practised eye and steady hand, drew a trigger. The deer dashed forward undaunted, and apparently unhurt. Without lowering his piece, the traveller turned its muzzle toward ...
— The Pioneers • James Fenimore Cooper
... let fly! So Sing hey, sing ho, for the startled deer; We warrant we'll hit him, if he comes near And we'll send him lame and limping away, With a shot he'll remember for many a day! For marry come up! But it would be absurd To expect a bold Sportsman to bag the whole herd! So he blazes away; and he hits one or two; And they hobble away in some thicket to lie, And, after a day or two's suffering, die; We don't see precisely what more we could do, Than shout that "we love the Merry Green Wood!" And would ...
— Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100, April 4, 1891 • Various
... of the Sportsman was brought home ill last week, and died of the very worst Small Pox in a Day or two. There have been three Deaths from it here: all from London. As young Smith died in Quay Lane leading down to the Boat Inn, ...
— Edward FitzGerald and "Posh" - "Herring Merchants" • James Blyth
... in his hunting and shooting excursions. Like a true wife, she boasted to her mother of his skill as a shot: the very day that she wrote he had killed forty head of game. (She did not mention that a French sportsman's bag was not confined to the larger game, but that thrushes, blackbirds, and even, red-breasts, were admitted to swell the list.) And the increased facilities for companionship with him that her riding afforded increased his tenderness for her, so ...
— The Life of Marie Antoinette, Queen of France • Charles Duke Yonge
... Then, with a mild-eyed melancholy look of reproachful contempt, the stag turns away, and wanders off to sleep in quiet coverts far within the wood. He has fled, while for Greenhorn no trophy remains. Antlers have nodded to the sportsman; a short tail has disappeared before his eyes;—he has seen something, but has nothing to show. Whereupon he buys a couple of pairs of ancient weather-bleached horns from some colonist, and, nailing them ...
— The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 10, No. 58, August, 1862 • Various
|
