these matters, it was essential to keep up an uninterrupted series
of guttural grunts of "Ug! Ug!" the invariable manner in which his
"braves" prefaced their remarks.

There was perhaps little need for the imaginary menagerie, for the
Dublin Zoological Gardens adjoined the "Lodge" grounds, and were
accessible to us at any time with a private key. The Dublin Zoo
had always been very successful in breeding lions, and derived a
large amount of their income from the sale of the cubs. They
consequently kept a number of lions, and the roaring of these
lions at night was very audible at the Viceregal Lodge, only a
quarter of a mile away. When I told the boys at school, with
perfect truth, that in Dublin I was nightly lulled to sleep by the
gentle roaring of lions round my couch, I was called a young liar.

There is a pretty lake inside the Viceregal grounds. My two elder
brothers were certain that they had seen wild duck on this lake in
the early morning, so getting up in the dusk of a December
morning, they crept down to the lake with their guns. With the
first gleam of dawn, they saw that there were plenty of wild fowl
on the water, and they succeeded in shooting three or four of
them. When daylight came, they retrieved them with a boat, but
were dismayed at finding that these birds were neither mallards,
nor porchards, nor any known form of British duck; their
colouring, too, seemed strangely brilliant. Then they remembered
the neighbouring Zoo, with its ornamental ponds covered with rare
imported and exotic waterfowl, and they realised what they had
done. It is quite possible that they had killed some unique
specimens, imported at fabulous cost from Central Africa, or from
the heart of the Australian continent, some priceless bird that