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Full text of "TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston"

had startled me into awareness of the oddity of my

Every day that I went out with the Limerick
Hounds was, presumably, my last; but I was able
to make several farewell appearances, and I felt that
each day was something to the good; these were
happy times, and while they lasted I refused to con-
template my Egyptian future. Mentally, I became
not unlike The Mister, whose motto—if he ever formu-
lated anything so definite as a motto—was "we may
all of us be dead next week so let's make the best of
this one". He took all earthly experience as it came
and allowed life to convey him over its obstacles in
much the same way as his horses carried him over
the Irish banks. His vague geniality seemed to em-
brace the whole human species. One felt that if Hin-
denburg arrived in Limerick The Mister would receive
him without one tedious query as to his credentials.
He would merely offer to mount him, and proudly
produce him at the meet next morning. "Let me
introduce me friend Marshal Hindenbird," he would
say, riding serenely up to the Master. And if the
Master demurred, The Mister would remark, "Be
reasonable, Master. Isn't the world round, and we
all on it?5'

He was a man who had few forethoughts and no
afterthoughts, and I am afraid that this condition
was too often artificially induced. He and Kegworthy
had this in common; they both brimmed over with
bonhomie, and (during the period when I knew them)
neither could have told me much about the previous
evening. In The Mister's case it didn't matter much;