Took a pleasant walk today in the fields but felt too weak to keep out long 'tis the first day of shooting with the sportsmen & the poor hares partridges & pheasants were flying in all directions panic struck they put me in mind of the inhabitants of a Village flying before an invading enemy the dogs run with their sleek dappled sides rustling in the crackling stubbs & their noses close to the ground as happy as their masters in the sport tho they only ‘mumble the game they dare not bite' as Pope says I was forced to return home fearing I might be shot under the hedges & wrote 2 letters One to Cunningham.
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